Another Vice
by KindaCrazy02
Summary: And as screwy as it is, he is my vice. Like an alcoholic will eventually drink that beer, I know I'll be back tomorrow night for another shot.
1. Chapter 1

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

I don't drink. I don't smoke. I try to watch how I eat and how often I drink soda. I don't speed when I drive. But I do have one vice, and it is arguably the worst possible one.

My vice is shaggy hair and deep eyes. My vice is rippling muscles and hard abs. My vice is a dark, sultry voice in my ear.

"We really should stop doing this," I groan, my words empty as I button up my jeans and grab my shoes from under his bed.

"You say that every time, yet you always come back," he smirks, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

He blows out a ring of smoke towards the ceiling, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, facing me.

"I mean it this time."

No I don't. I'll be back tomorrow, I know that. He is my vice, and such a vice is not easily avoidable.

"Sure you do, Princess," he laughs, putting out his cigarette in an ash tray on his bedside table.

I groan again, throwing my hair up in a bun to hide the knots he created.

"You're impossible," I sigh, turning on my heels and stalking out of his room, my sneakers still in my hand.

* * *

"And where have you been?" my roommate, Lillian, asks, arching her eyebrow high into her hairline.

I groan, throwing myself down on my bed in our shared bedroom, burying my head in my pillow.

"Is that a good groan or a bad groan?" Lillian laughs.

Lillian knows about my vice. She doesn't know who he is- if she did, she might drop dead- but she knows. She knows that I wish I could stop seeing him.

Lillian and I have been roommates for almost a year now, and she knows damn near everything about me. She's probably my best friend. But I can't bring myself to tell her about him. I almost wish I'd never even met him.

I groan again, slamming my fist down on the pillow beside me before sitting upright, dropping my head into my hands before looking up a Lillian.

"Oh, so it's a good groan?" she quirks, taking notice of my hair and general state of attire. "How was Mr. X today?"

Mr. X. That's what Lillian calls him. For a while, she was mad that I wouldn't tell her his name. But now she just calls him Mr. X, which he would find hilarious if he ever knew.

I shoot my best disapproving side eye at her and let my hair down from the bun it's been in since leaving him. I can't wait to get into the shower and wash him off of me.

Lillian lets out a long whistle, laughing to herself.

"If the knots in your hair tell me anything, I'd say X was damn good!"

I roll my eyes at her.

"I'm getting in the shower," I snap, stomping over to the bathroom door, slamming it behind me.

As if he can sense that I'm alone, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I know it's him. It's always him.

 _Come back_.

I won't lie. My first thought is that I want to. And I wish I didn't. I wish he didn't affect me like he does.

 _Why?_

Even responding to him is a mistake, and I know that.

 _Jake isn't coming back tonight. The apartment's all mine tonight... and so are you._

I bite my lip. Should I go or not? I lean back against the bathroom door, knocking my head back.

The problem with a vice like this is when it calls, I can't say no. It's like putting a beer in front of an alcoholic and telling him not to drink it. Eventually he will. And so will I.

 _Fine. But I'm showering when I get there._

I turn around, opening the bathroom door and stepping back out.

"Leaving again?" Lillian says, annoyance dripping in her voice.

"Don't even say it, Lillian. I know, I know," I frown.

She's disappointed in me. And I'm disappointed in myself.

I never thought I'd be this girl. I never wanted to be the girl with no backbone because of something like sex. But here I am.

"Tell X I say hi."

* * *

The door to his apartment swings open and there he is. His jeans are slung low on his hips and he's apparently decided to go without a shirt, and his hair has clearly not been touched since I left. And he looks good. Better than good.

"You gonna let me in or do you want me to stand in the hallway all night?" I quip.

He brings out the worst in me. Sure, the sex is good and always has been, but he and I fight like cats and dogs. And I guess that's been a constant in this 'relationship' too. There are two constants: sex and fights.

To be entirely fair though, the fights came before the sex. We've never really 'gotten along'. The only thing that's kept us from killing each other _is_ the sex. And isn't that just fucked up?

I guess I should also mention that I'm twenty-two years old and this thing between us has been going on since high school. How pathetic is that?

"Oh, no, wouldn't want to leave Princess out in the hallway," he laughs, stepping aside to let me in.

That nickname doesn't even phase me anymore. It wouldn't surprise me if he just forgot my name and continued to call me 'Princess' in its place.

I enter his apartment, but I'm only a step or two in when his strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling my back flush against this chest.

His free hand reaches up and pulls my hair off my neck, his breath ghosting across my skin.

I sigh, leaning my head back against his shoulder.

"I need to shower," I somehow manage to get out as my head almost unconsciously tilts to the side so his lips could find their way to my neck.

"So lets go," he chuckles against my skin, running his hands along my sides before retracting and stepping back and around so he's facing me. "I'm kidding. Go. I know you'd rather shower alone."

I nod, half smiling at him.

"Are you hungry? I'm thinking of cooking," he asks, genuinely wondering. "Nevermind. I'll just make enough for the both of us."

Like I said, we've been at this since high school. We know each other well. He knows me better than anyone. It's a complicated situation.

* * *

"What are you watching?" I ask once I've gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my body.

"Hockey. What else?" he laughs, turning to face me from his spot on the sofa.

I laugh lightly, striding over and leaning my arms on the back of the sofa beside him.

I take a minute to look at him and wonder how in the hell we got here.

"I started dinner. It should be done soon. Go get dressed and we'll eat," he tells me, his eyes completely averted from mine.

This is the awkward part of our 'relationship'. Sure, we'll watch a movie together or grab something to eat together, but there's always the fact that we're going to end up having sex later on that's hanging over our heads. Always. We can (and have many times) try to just hang out without the sex and we just can't do it. It's sad, really.

* * *

It's around ten minutes later, once I've gotten dressed from the stash of my stuff I keep at his apartment for times like these, when I step out of his bedroom and my senses are all assaulted at once.

All I can smell is delicious... something. And all I can see is him standing at the stove, tending to his creation with a hand towel tossed haphazardly over his still-bare shoulder.

I take a seat at the island in his kitchen in front of an empty plate he's set out for me and just watch. In a different world, maybe we'd have a better relationship. But for now, in this world, this is where we are.

"I made Italian chicken," he says, turning around with a frying pan in hand, sliding a breast of chicken onto my plate.

"Thanks," I smile at him as he serves himself.

He nods, cutting into his own food and taking a bite.

We eat in almost silence. We used to talk more- about our days or work or friends. Now it's just silence. Maybe that would be different too.

It's just weird that I see this man every day, and we don't talk about anything of substance.

"Have you talked to them?"

His question catches me off guard. But of course, I know to whom he is referring.

"This morning. They asked about you."

"And you lied. You told them you haven't seen me, didn't you?" he smirks.

My fingers grip tighter onto the fork in my hand.

"Of course I did. What else was I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey, Mom! Hi, George! Yes, actually, I have seen Derek, we had sex just last night!' It would give them a heart attack!" I shout, immediately regretting it after I do.

I guess I should explain. My name is Casey McDonald. I am twenty-two years old and a college graduate. I dance and sing and enjoy writing in my spare time. And when I'm not dancing or singing or writing, I like to have sex with my step-brother.

That's right. My one vice, my one terrible, horrible vice is sex with a man who is legally my step-brother. The son of the man who married my mom.

"And you say I'm impossible," my step-brother scoffs, biting a piece of chicken harshly off his fork.

"You know, Derek, you could always call them yourself. Then maybe they wouldn't ask me about you anymore."

Derek hasn't talked to our parents in probably three or four years. The three of them got into a fight about Derek wanting to transfer to a university in the States (which incidentally was miraculously close to where I was studying at the time) for an opportunity to impress some NHL scouts. And boy, did he.

Derek was drafted for a team I still can't remember the name of straight out of college and has been a professional hockey player since, but my parents either don't know that or pretend to not because of that dumb fight. And yet they still ask about him... every day. And I lie every day and tell them I haven't seen him and know nothing about what he's been doing. Although, excuse my vulgarity, but I suppose what he's been doing is me.

I think they feel a little better about Derek being in the States because they know I'm close by. But they don't know how close.

"You guys need to get over this dumb feud you have going on," I tell him, finishing off my plate of chicken.

"And you need to butt out of my business," Derek snaps, dropping both of our plates into the sink before stalking around the island and looming over me.

I stand from my seat, not about to let him intimidate me.

"This is why we don't talk anymore," he starts, scrubbing his hands down his face in annoyance. "You always stick your nose in and try to give me advice and push me to do things because it's what you would do. It's actually really annoying."

"So is lying to my mother."

I wouldn't say Derek has a temper, because really, he doesn't. He usually tends to be slow to anger, and what anger he does have, he works off through sex or hockey practice. But he does have little ticks. And I'm nearly positive that _I'm_ one of his ticks. Especially when I bring up our parents or try to tell him what to do. Derek likes to make his own mistakes, which I suppose is a good trait to have.

Derek's hand grips onto my arm as he uses his other arm to wrap around my waist and pull me to him.

"I'm done arguing with you now," Derek hisses, leaning down and catching me in a kiss.

And just like that, the passion we'd both been putting into the fighting shifts.

My arms reach up and wrap around his neck as we crush ourselves closer together.

Derek grunts against my mouth, pulling back before sucking what will probably be a dark, purpley-red bruise into my neck, his hands already fighting with the button and zipper on my jeans.

I kick my jeans off, leaving them in a pool on the floor of the kitchen as my step-brother lifts me up almost effortlessly and wraps my legs around his waist.

Knowing what Derek's next move is likely to be, I tear my own shirt up over my head and toss it aside, giving him access to the rest of my body.

He starts to head toward his bedroom, which at this point, he could do blindfolded, and continues sucking and biting his way down my neck and chest as he does.

My head falls backward and my teeth grit together, attempting to keep myself from making too much noise, not because Derek wouldn't like it, but because he would. I actually want this to last as long as possible to work off the steam from arguing earlier. He'll be much less of a pain in the ass that way.

We make our way to Derek's bedroom and he unceremoniously drops me onto his bed, shedding his own pants before joining me, pressing his lips back to mine.

Derek makes quick work of removing both my bra and underwear, before resuming his earlier work of leaving his marks down my body.

He bites into my thigh, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel it and I can't help but whimper.

After so many years, we know how to make each other squirm and shake.

So, he bites and sucks at the skin on my thighs before shifting his attention elsewhere.

His head dips down between my legs as he tosses them over his shoulders, wasting no time as he licks into me, swirling his tongue around my sensitive center.

My back arches and I think I say something along the lines of, " _Oh_ , holy _fuck_."

I can feel my step-brother smirk against me, and it almost annoys me how good he is at this.

It's not until my legs are shaking and my hips are canting that he stops- almost abruptly- and laughs at the involuntary whimper I let out at the loss.

He licks his lips as he kneels back up, his eyes glinting with pride and mischief.

He reaches down and strokes his cock a few times before positioning himself at my entrance and pushing inside.

I suck in a breath, adjusting to the stretch. I'll never give him the satisfaction of hearing me say it, but he's big. And even after all this time, it still takes a minute to accommodate him.

I nod when I'm ready for him to move, allowing him to start up a steady rhythm.

He thrusts into me at a quick but steady pace as he leans down, biting and kissing at my neck before moving to my lips.

I can taste myself on his lips, which is admittedly kind of gross, but I can't bring myself to care with the way my toes are curling and my body is tingling.

Before long, we're both panting and moaning and I know we're both getting close.

I tangle my fingers into the long hair at the back of his neck and yank him down, crushing his lips to mine.

By this point, it's mostly just teeth and tongues crashing together between moans and groans.

"I'm gonna-," I start to say before my body is wracked with ecstasy, washing over me in waves.

"Me too," Derek grunts, his head dropping down onto my shoulder as he thrusts himself through his own orgasm inside me.

Once he's come down from his high, he pulls himself out of me and stands from his bed.

And like always, the mood shifts.

We clean ourselves up and redress in silence. He walks along side me to the living room, where I grab my cell phone and car keys off of his entryway table, and he opens the front door for me and closes it behind me as I leave.

And as screwy as it is, he is my vice. Like an alcoholic will eventually drink that beer, I know I'll be back tomorrow night for another shot.

* * *

Okay, so some housekeeping here. If you're getting a notification for the upload of this story, that's probably because you've followed my other LWD story, _Jersey_. And for those of you who do, I promise there will be more! I haven't uploaded anything to that story in about six months, which is total bs, I know. And I apologize for that. But there will be more. I just got totally uninspired... And then THIS happened.

So, that being said, this is _Another Vice_ , and the majority of this story was written in less than 24 hours. So I'd say there's inspiration there. This story was inspired in part by 'Vice' by Miranda Lambert, so credit where credit is due there, although there are no actual references to the song within the story.

ALSO. This could be made into a multi-chapter story if y'all are interested. So just let me know and I'll continue it. I do have some ideas, so it definitely could happen. Let me know.

That's all I've got to say now. So I hope you enjoyed this and will review. (:


	2. Chapter 2

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

"So what time are we supposed to pick your sister up from the airport?" Lillian asks, pulling a hoodie down over her t-shirt.

"Around one," I reply easily, checking the time to make sure we won't be late.

Yes, that's right, Lizzie is flying in from London to spend part of her holiday break here with me in New York.

When our mom asked Lizzie what she wanted to do for her holiday break, her first response was that she wanted to come to New York to see me... and Derek. Which should be interesting considering Lillian doesn't even know I have a step-brother that lives close by, for obvious reasons.

Lillian stretches out on the sofa in the living room of our apartment and flicks on the tv, presumably to kill some time before it's time to go.

It's worth mentioning that Lillian is a Sports Journalist, which is how she and I met to begin with and became roommates- we're both freelance journalists. So more often than not, Lillian's choice of entertainment is some form of sports event or game... and of course, it's hockey season.

So the first game she flicks on is hockey, and I can't help but groan aloud.

"I still don't understand how you can hate hockey," Lillian laughs. "You're Canadian, isn't that like illegal?"

I'm also the step-sister/fuck buddy to the center of an NHL hockey team, so excuse me for disliking the sport.

"Plus, it's a Devils game! It's close to home!" she shouts.

Oh, that's right. That's the team he plays for. The New Jersey Devils... how fitting.

"Can we just go, Lillian?" I plead, hoping against hope that she'll just turn the damn game off before the inevitable camera zoom in on Derek.

He's the center, so the cameras tend to focus in on him for a lot of the time he's on the ice during games, which if I'm being honest, is a majority of the reason why I can't watch them. Seeing his smug 'I'm a pro hockey player' grin outside of our 'arrangement' is just annoying.

"Oh, fine. But you know how much of a defining moment in my career it would be if I ever got interview with a Devil. I need to know as much about them as possible."

Okay, so I'm kind of a terrible best friend. I could probably get Derek to do an interview with Lillian without an issue, but I just can't do that. Our 'relationship' has gotten so rocky that I wouldn't even dare ask him. It's pretty much entirely physical now.

* * *

At around 1:15 in the afternoon, Lillian and I are waiting at the gate to pick Lizzie up from her flight and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to deal with the whole Derek thing while Lizzie is here.

Obviously, I have to tell him she's here and get them together so Lizzie can report back to my mom and let her know he's still alive, but that means I'd have to see him too and then there's the whole mess of the sex and how we're not going to be able to do that while she's here. This should be a complicated three days.

"Casey!" I hear from in front of me, making me snap out of my thoughts.

Lizzie looks different than the last time I saw her, but yet, still the same.

Her hair is whisked up into a ponytail and she's wearing her standard jeans and a sweatshirt.

Lizzie is almost eighteen now, which makes me feel old, but she's becoming such a lovely young lady and most importantly, she seems happy.

She's smiling brightly as she picks up her pace and runs toward me, dropping her bag at my feet and throwing her arms around me.

It occurs to me that I need to introduce Lizzie to Lillian, so when I pull myself back from hugging my sister, I turn to Lillian.

"Lizzie, this is my roommate, Lillian," I smile, happy that Lizzie is actually here and is able to meet my best friend in the States. It's like two worlds are coming together.

* * *

It's not until almost dinner time that Lizzie finally brings up Derek.

Lizzie, Lillian and I are standing in the tiny kitchen in Lillian and I's apartment, eating greasy take-away pizza and I almost choke on my drink when Lizzie asks.

"So when are we supposed to see Derek?" Lizzie asks, and I almost don't know how to respond.

Thankfully, Lillian responds before I do.

"Who's Derek?"

Lizzie seems confused by the fact that my best friend and roommate doesn't know who Derek is, and I'm about to open my mouth and explain when Lizzie beats me to it.

"He's our step-brother. He lives in the city too. You've never met Derek?"

Lillian scoffs and turns her attention to me, clearly irritated that I'd kept this from her.

"You have a brother? How did I not know this?" Lillian shouts, giving me a very classic 'annoyed Lillian' look.

"He's not my brother, so don't call him that. And we're not exactly close."

Well, I guess that depends on your perspective and your definition of 'close'. We're step-siblings who have at regular sex, so I guess that makes us 'close', but we can't have a civil conversation to save our lives, so there's that too.

"So? You could have at least told me you had a brother! I didn't even know you had a sister until you told me she was coming to stay with us, and you had a brother living in the same city as us this whole time!"

I groan and roll my eyes at the two women across from me. This week is already shaping up to be a bad one.

And it's then that the universe laughs at me and sends another lovely reminder of how tragic this weekend is going to be.

 _Come over_.

It's only two words but it's a reminder that there's no way possible this weekend will go by without a hitch.

I sigh and think of what to text back, wondering if I should tell him Lizzie is here yet, or wait.

 _I can't_.

I sit my phone face down on the counter as I clean up the pizza box and our plates, hoping Derek won't push further.

But how often, really, is it that Derek Venturi does something I want him to do? Almost never.

I grab my phone off the counter and head into the living room, sitting down on the couch, Lillian and Lizzie following shortly after.

 _What do you mean you can't?_

"No sports, Lillian," I say almost without realizing it when I see her surfing for something to watch on television.

 _I mean, I can't. I'm busy_.

I kind of almost wish I could go see him to blow off some steam, but I also recognize that that would be unwise.

 _And I'm horny. So come over_.

"What's got you so glued to your phone, Case?" Lizzie questions, laughing. "I've never seen you so attached to it before."

And without missing a beat, Lillian responds, "It's probably X."

Lizzie obviously doesn't know about X and the screwed up relationship I have with our step-brother and I'd like to keep it that way.

"Who's X?" Lizzie laughs, looking at me like I have three heads and like she thinks either I'm crazy or Lillian is.

Before Lillian can reply with a crude answer that I'd much rather my little sister not hear, I answer, "Nobody, Lizzie. Don't worry about it."

 _You're always horny_.

"X is her... male friend. She won't tell me anything about him, but apparently they've been seeing each other for years. She claims to actually hate him and only keeps seeing him for sex, but I happen to think she's actually just in love with him and can't admit it," Lillian explains to Lizzie, making me kick her wherever I can reach to shut her up.

Yeah, it's also probably worth mentioning that Lillian thinks Derek and I are actually secretly in love with each other and just won't admit it to ourselves or one another. Because that's logical.

She thinks we both would've moved on from each other unless there's something else going on... Except there's definitely not, y'know, other than the whole 'technically related' thing.

I wouldn't even want to imagine how different things would be if Derek and I actually got along, let alone anything else.

 _Which is why I'm telling you to come over_.

"Well, well, well, Casey, this is news to me." Lizzie says, shock and amusement in her voice.

I roll my eyes again, standing from the couch.

"I'll be back later. I'm done listening to you two critique me," I hiss, sliding my feet into my boots and grabbing my keys.

"Awwe, Case, we mean no harm. But tell X hi from me," Lizzie smiles, settling in to watch whatever movie Lillian has found to watch.

 _I'm coming over_.

* * *

"Couldn't resist, could you, Princess?" Derek taunts as he opens the door to his apartment to let me in.

Normally I would throw back a comeback without even thinking about it, but for once, I'm more annoyed with Lizzie and Lillian than I am with Derek.

So that being said, before I'm even inside, I throw my arms around his neck, crushing my lips to his and shoving him backward into the apartment.

I kick the door shut behind me, leaning my back up against it, tangling my fingers through my step-brother's hair.

One of my hands drops from Derek's hair to his belt buckle, my fingers fighting to get it off of him.

"What's gotten into you?" Derek laughs against my lips, his hands grazing my sides and down to grip onto my thighs and lift me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and shoving my back against the door again.

In order to let me answer him, Derek trails hot, open mouthed kisses down my neck, biting gently into my pulse point.

"Lizzie is here," I breathe, my teeth digging into my lip.

Now it's not just frustration with my roommate and sister that fueling this fire because I'm starting to really feel the effects Derek is having on me.

Derek slides his hands up under my shirt, tearing it up and over my head in one swift motion, continuing to kiss and bite his way down onto my chest.

"And why is that a problem?"

Derek lifts his attention from my chest, leaning his forehead against mine to catch his breath before pressing his lips back to mine, swiping his tongue across my bottom lip, forcing a soft groan out of somewhere low in my throat.

"Because, genius, while she's here, that means you have to go three days without getting laid."

I swear, I don't think I've ever seen someone go from 100 to 0 in such a short amount of time, but telling Derek Venturi he has to go without sex is like telling any normal human they have to go without water.

Still with my back pressed to the door, my legs around his waist and his hands on my ass, I say, "Oh, and mom told Lizzie explicitly that she wasn't allowed to come back to Canada until she sees you."

Derek groans and tosses his head back in annoyance.

"Fine. To get that over with, I'll meet you guys for dinner tomorrow night. But you owe me," Derek hisses before hauling me off of against the door and carrying me into his bedroom.

And that's where the talking ends, giving way to heat and passion.

* * *

It's around two and a half hours later that I'm back home, dropping my keys on the kitchen counter and kicking my shoes off.

"Oh, you're home," Lizzie says, a hinting of contempt in her voice as she's lounging on the sofa in the living room that's going to act as her bed for the next couple nights.

I sigh.

"I am," I reply, taking a seat next to her, noticing that Lillian must've already gone to sleep.

"Why did you keep your family a secret from Lillian?"

I frown. Honestly? When you're in an entirely different country from almost all of your family, it's easy to get used to them not being around.

"Lizzie, when I moved here for school, I was alone in a new country. Lillian and I became friends three years after that. I'd just gotten so used to being alone. It's nothing against you guys, I promise."

Lizzie seems to think for a minute, contemplating what she'll say next.

"But you weren't alone. You moved here in September and Derek followed in January. Have you really not seen him in the entire four years you've been here? He's still family. You can't just pretend he doesn't exist."

I don't want to lie to my sister. But on the other hand, it's not like I can exactly tell her I see Derek, especially not in the way that I see him.

"I see him. He's not far from here, maybe ten minutes. He lives with one of his teammates," I finally decide to say.

It's not a lie. It's just not the whole truth.

Lizzie nods, understanding.

"And we're going to see him while I'm here? I told mom I'd see him."

I nod in response.

"Yes, I talked to him earlier today. We're meeting him for dinner tomorrow evening."

I can tell Lizzie is still upset about something, but I don't know that I'm ready to ask her what.

I can't help but see that this was not the trip Lizzie had planned. I'm sure she expected to see the sister she remembered from when I was living at home. But I've changed, and I'm not so sure it's been for the better.

* * *

Hey, guys! I hope you're enjoying this so far! I'm still working on the next chapter of _Jersey_ , which I hope to have up early next week!

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and will review.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

If someone asked me what the best form of torture for me would be, I'd say this. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but I would rather be just about anywhere else but here.

Today is Day 2 of Lizzie's visit to New York, which means it's also the day Derek is meeting us for dinner- and by 'us', I mean, myself, Lizzie and Lillian. Lillian essentially threw a fit because she'd never met my 'brother', as she insists on calling him, so she invited herself to tag along too.

This ought to be interesting.

It's around 6:30 and the three of us are waiting outside the restaurant for Derek when Lizzie notices him walking toward us through throngs of commuting New Yorkers.

"Derek!" she shouts, taking off running toward him, throwing herself into his arms when she gets close enough.

Derek wraps his arms around his younger step-sister, and I swear I can almost see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

When the duo have finished their hug, they make their way back to Lillian and I, and I can see the look on Lillian's face and I know exactly what she's thinking.

Now, I should mention, Lillian is pretty much exactly the kind of girl Derek would usually be interested in, other than the fact that she's incredibly smart.

She has long, curly blonde hair, brown eyes and she's about my height and build, so it doesn't surprise me when Derek quirks a half-smile and goes to introduce himself to her.

It also doesn't surprise me that Lillian's mouth just about hits the floor when she recognizes him. She's a sports journalist, so of course she does. It's kind of her job to.

"You're Derek Venturi," she gasps, immediately shooting dagger eyes at me.

Derek chuckles and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"I guess you're a hockey fan," he laughs, reaching out to shake her hand.

By this point, Lizzie and I are both bored of hearing this conversation. I guess it's just weird seeing someone you know be seen as a 'celebrity'.

"Lillian Drake, I'm a sports journalist," Lillian smiles, her eyes unmoving from Derek's face.

And it's then that Derek acknowledges my presence.

"Oh very nice, Space Case, you brought a reporter to dinner," Derek mocks, glaring down at me.

And here we go. Part of me hoped we'd be able to make it through this dinner without arguing.

"Try again, Derek. Lillian is my roommate. Trust me, you're not that important," I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest.

"That hurts, Case. You should be proud your _big brother_ is famous."

I swear, it would be a miracle if Lizzie and Lillian don't notice the look I'm sure crosses my face when he says the words 'big brother'.

* * *

"Are they always like this?" Lillian asks her roommate's sister, arching her eyebrow up high as she watches Casey and Derek yelling at each other through the restaurant's front window.

"Always. Since the day they met," Lizzie replies, the fighting barely even phasing her.

Dinner went by mostly without a hiccup until dessert. Lillian doesn't remember what it was that Derek said or did, but Casey didn't like it and now they're outside arguing about it.

"Good Lord, how did your parents put up with the two of them under the same roof?"

Lizzie laughs. On the surface, she can see how it seems like Derek and Casey hate each other. But she knows they don't. They've always cared for each other at least as much as they dislike each other. Lizzie likes to think they love to hate each other, if that makes sense.

"It's funny, actually. Casey moved to New York before Derek did. And for those four months Casey was gone and Derek wasn't, Derek wasn't himself. He was quiet and everyone could tell he missed her. I like to think he followed her here and the hockey thing just fell into his lap," Lizzie says, laughing lightly. "I think my parents finally relented and let him move here because they were tired of him acting like he lost a limb."

Lillian thinks for a minute, understanding what Lizzie is saying.

"Well, I don't pay attention to much, but Casey has never mentioned Derek. Not once. That doesn't sound like the relationship you're describing," Lillian replies, unsure of how to understand how it's possible her roommate never mentioned having a brother.

"Maybe, but she did tell me she sees him. And the way she said it, I'd wager it's pretty often."

Lillian's brow furrows and it's almost as if a lightbulb goes off in her head.

Fighting the way they are, Derek and Casey look almost like a couple. By the way Derek keeps scrubbing his hands down his face and the way Casey keeps biting her bottom lip, Lillian can see something more than just a sibling rivalry.

It would make sense, after all, why Casey would keep Derek a secret from her.

* * *

"You're impossible!" I shout, my eyes locked with Derek's.

"And you're uptight!"

I groan aloud and toss my head back.

"Can't you go one day without flirting with a peppy blonde? She's my roommate, for Pete's sake!"

Okay, so this is definitely not my finest moment. Yes, I'm yelling at my step-brother (who I frequently sleep with) outside of a restaurant for flirting with my roommate.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you sounded jealous," Derek smirks.

"Good thing you know better then, huh?" I shoot back.

It's not jealousy. I'm not jealous. But Lillian is my best friend and roommate, and she's also a journalist who specializes in his field of work. Derek is a professional hockey player and there's several reasons why I never mentioned him or that fact to Lillian. And now that Lillian knows Derek is who he is, I can guarantee she'll be asking me to set her up with an interview, which I won't do.

So him turning on the charm because she's a journalist is pointless and he should know that, right?

Derek reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, holding one of the sticks between his lips and lighting up, blowing out a stream of smoke down towards his feet.

That's one nasty habit Derek picked up after moving to New York. It's not excessive, but he does smoke. I've tried to get him to quit, but I've long since stopped trying.

Derek is a 'cigarette after sex' kind of guy, but he's also a 'cigarette after an argument' or a 'cigarette after a game' kind of guy.

"Listen, Princess," Derek starts, the cigarette still dangling from his lips. "You're not my mother and you're not my wife. You don't get a say in what I do. Trust me, you're not that important."

* * *

It's later on after dinner when Lillian and I are both lounging in our shared bedroom, me in my bed and her in hers, that she decides to say something.

"Derek is X, isn't he?" she asks and my eyes probably widen to the size of golfballs when she does.

"Excuse me?" I ask incredulously, suddenly grateful it's mostly dark in our room so she can't see how red I'm sure my cheeks are turning.

"Because if he's not, you need to stop seeing X and start sleeping with Derek," Lillian laughs.

"Wait, what?" I can't help but laugh, now even more confused than I was before.

"I saw you two fighting. With the amount of passion you two have when you fight, I can't even imagine what the sex would be like."

"Lillian, you do realize you're asking me if I'm sleeping with my step-brother, right?"

Lillian laughs.

"And Casey, you do realize you haven't answered me, right?"

I sigh, laughing lightly. How the hell am I supposed to respond to this? Should I tell her or should I continue to lie about this? Well, here goes nothing.

"Then I guess you know the answer, don't you?"

* * *

Whoops. I forgot to upload this yesterday. My bad. Two weeks in and I'm already messing up my upload schedule, lol. ANYWAY. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and review if you want to.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

 _"You are such an ass, Derek!" Casey yells, shoving both of her hands into her step-brother's chest, making him stumble backward._

 _The two teenagers are home alone, their parents and younger siblings having gone to see a movie this evening, and they're already arguing._

 _Derek had put Nair in Casey's shampoo bottle again, and Casey's lucky she's gotten used to smelling her hair products before using them._

 _Derek rolls his eyes, stepping back toward Casey, looming over her._

 _"Oh, get over it, Princess," Derek drawls, his voice dropping low._

 _Casey steps back, her lower back hitting the back of the couch, effectively trapping her between it and Derek._

 _Derek reaches out, gripping onto the back of the couch, holding Casey in place, his brown eyes connecting with her blue ones._

 _"It was just a joke, Princess," Derek says, leaning in closer to his step-sister, close enough that Casey can smell his cologne._

 _It smells like Derek- warm, dark, amber, sexy. Casey shivers, biting her lip._

 _Casey and Derek have been dancing around each other since they met, and now at eighteen years old, Derek is tired of it. The fighting is ending today, one way or another._

 _"How is you trying to chemically remove my hair a joke?" Casey shoots back, crossing her arms over her chest._

 _It's then that Derek takes notice of what Casey is wearing, or rather, her lack of clothing. Casey is dressed in tight short shorts, which Derek recognizes as being something she often sleeps in, and a long sleeved t-shirt with a deep v-neck cut._

 _Derek sucks in a breath as his cock throbs in his pants, thanking whoever's listening that he's still wearing jeans._

 _"Care to answer, Derek?" Casey taunts, wondering why Derek hasn't answered her yet._

 _And Derek doesn't actually answer. He doesn't really have a sufficient answer, and more than that, he now has a hard-on straining against his jeans._

 _Derek will blame it on thinking with his downstairs brain, but he suddenly leans forward, crushing his lips to Casey's._

 _Casey squeaks and wiggles in his arms, but doesn't protest._

 _If Casey's being honest with herself, she's been staring at Derek's lips since this argument started, wondering what they'd feel like on her. Anyone can see that her step-brother is attractive, even Casey._

 _Casey glides her hands up her step-brother's arms, feeling his veins and rippling muscles flexing under her palms._

 _Derek lets go of the back of the couch in favor of wrapping his arms around Casey's waist, pulling her close against him._

 _Derek is surprised that Casey isn't fighting him, but relieved- glad she's responding._

 _Derek can't help but groan, his arms tightening around his step-sister before pushing away from her._

 _"Derek?" Casey asks, those big blue eyes shining against the dimmed light in the dining room._

 _She's wondering if maybe she's done something wrong, although how sensible is that worry, really, when it was Derek who kissed her first._

 _"Are you okay with this?" Derek asks, eyes locked with Casey's, watching for any sign of discomfort._

 _Derek knows he's wanted this for as long as he can remember, but he's also not about to force Casey into anything she doesn't want._

 _Casey's lips turn up into a half smile and her eyes go dark, and if Derek didn't know better, he'd think she was angry._

 _"Are you?" she shoots back, her hands on her hips, taunting him._

 _Derek would deny it if asked, but he just about growls before lunging toward his step-sister, his lips crashing back down on hers._

 _Casey wraps her arms around Derek's neck, pulling him close as his hands find their way to her hips._

 _Much to Derek's surprise, it's Casey that pushes to go further, her dainty fingers bunching up his shirt under his arms before pulling it off of him completely. She drops the shirt to the floor beside them, returning her arms to their previous spot around his neck._

 _Derek debates whether to take this upstairs or not, but decides against it, not wanting to push Casey any further than she might want._

 _Instead, he steps to the side, pulling Casey with him, moving around to the front of the couch before lying Casey down on it, kneeling above her._

 _"Derek," Casey breathes against her step-brother's lips, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end._

 _Derek sucks in a breath._

 _"Fuck, Case," Derek groans, switching his attention from kissing Casey's lips to down her neck._

 _"Derek," Casey whimpers, her hips bucking up to meet Derek's. "I- I want."_

 _"What do you want, Princess?" Derek asks, teeth grazing over Casey's collarbone. "Tell me and you can have it."_

 _"You. I want you."_

* * *

Five years is a long time, it seems. It wouldn't be absurd to hope that my life would be different than it was when I was seventeen. And I suppose things are different in some ways.

I'm in the early stages of building a career as a journalist, I have a best friend in the States in Lillian, and of course there's the obvious fact of living in an entirely different country.

But then there's also the things that are the same, not least of all, _Derek_. I suppose some things never change.

"Nora wants us to what now?" Derek groans, cracking open a beer from the fridge in his apartment, sliding a water bottle across the island to me.

"Now, Derek, you are many things- deaf isn't one of them."

I pop the top off of my water, taking a swig before deciding to clarify for my step-brother who's still looking at me like he hadn't heard me.

"Mom wants you and I to come visit. She said Lizzie got to see us, so she and George should get to, too."

Derek groans aloud.

"She does know it's the middle of hockey season, right?"

I sigh.

"Of course she does. Which is why she's booked us a flight home at the end of April."

Derek's upper lip twitches- it does that when he's annoyed.

"And if I don't go?" Derek asks, although I'm sure he already knows that's neither an option, nor a wise decision.

"Do you really want to unleash the wrath of my mother on yourself?"

Derek would never admit it, but he respects my mom and wouldn't undermine her by not visiting when she says to.

"Well, it's either piss her off by not coming, or piss her off when she finds out I've been screwing her daughter."

I roll my eyes. This has always been Derek's thing. He always thought our parents would walk in on us having sex or in some compromising position while we were still living at home, but it never happened- and never will, as long as I can help it.

"She won't find out. She hasn't in five years. But that isn't what you're really worried about."

Derek laughs lightly, taking another swig of his beer.

"Oh yeah? So what am I worried about then?"

"You just don't want see Mom and George after the big fight."

Derek scoffs, dropping his now empty beer bottle in the sink behind him before stalking around the island, leaning over me in an attempt to taunt me.

"Stop trying to get inside my head."

I can't help but laugh at that.

"I find it highly comical that you're telling the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone to stop trying to get inside your head," I smile, looking right up at him, taunting him back. "I'm in your head, Derek. You can't even think something without me knowing about it."

Derek's head falls back in silent amusement.

"So then what am I thinking right now, mind reader?"

I stand from the bar stool I've been sitting in, still barely an inch from him, and despite our current antics, his hands are immediately running down my waist, to my hips and around to my lower back.

"You, Derek Venturi, are thinking about one of the only two things you ever think about- sex and hockey- currently the former."

Derek smirks that sexy smirk he seems to have perfected throughout his life and leans down toward me, his beer breath ghosting over my cheek. I can't help but inhale heavily, biting my lip. I may not drink, but I can certainly enjoy the taste on someone else's lips.

"Well, then I guess you do know what I'm thinking about," Derek drawls, his hands slipping down further into the back pockets of my jeans as he presses his lips to mine.

I'd be lying if I said a tingle doesn't run through me at the way we automatically press together, every inch of our bodies melding together.

Derek and I have been at this for five years now, and while I still think Lillian's idea that Derek and I are actually in love with each other is absurd, I do care for him. I always have.

As much of a pain in the ass as he was in high school, he was also one of the only people I could always count on to have my back, even if he would never admit to such a thing out loud.

I wouldn't have admitted any of this either if someone had asked me five years ago if I cared about Derek. But I hesitate now to think of what my life would look like without him in it.

 _Technically family_ or not, Derek is in my life, and he's a rather big part of it, too.

* * *

"You can stay, you know," Derek says, sprawled across his bed, the cigarette dangling from his lips muffling his speech slightly.

I sigh, pulling my sweatshirt- which actually belonged to Derek in high school, but I've since stolen it- down over my chest, tucking the excess fabric into the front of my jeans.

"Do you want me to?" I ask, unsure of what Derek wants.

Derek groans, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting it out in the ash tray on his bedside table. He sits upright in his bed with his feet on the floor, big brown eyes looking intently up at me.

"Go get me a beer," Derek says strongly.

It sounds like an order, but I know it's not. He's asking, more than anything. Derek is a tough egg to crack and by saying something almost nice, like, 'You can stay', I think he confused even himself- and now wants a beer to blame it on being drunk, which he is not.

I sigh and nod, heading off to the kitchen of the apartment to get Derek a beer and a water bottle for myself, wondering if Derek wants me to stay because he wants me to stay, or because he's planning on getting laid again.

I almost jump out of my skin when the front door to Derek's apartment opens, his roommate, Jake, stepping through and dropping a duffle that much resembles Derek's hockey bag on the floor.

"Oh, hey, Casey," Jake smiles, closing the door behind him and locking the deadbolt.

I smile back. Jake is one of Derek's teammates, but he's also his roommate, and he's such an incredibly kind person. He's just one of those guys you can tell has a heart of gold.

"Hi, Jake. Derek is in his room if you wanted to see him," I say, reaching into the refrigerator for the beer Derek asked for and a drink for myself.

"I'm just home to shower before I head to my girlfriend's place," Jake laughs, a nervousness in his voice. "I'm meeting her parents tonight."

Ooh. Big step.

"Well, good luck," I say, smiling again, hoping to reassure Jake.

Part of me is glad I don't have a relationship like that. I would feel bad for any poor man who had to schlep all the way to Canada to meet my parents— but only part of me.

I head back into Derek's room, popping the top off of his beer and handing it to him, watching as he takes a swig.

"Stay," Derek states again, licking his lips to catch any rogue drops of beer.

I shuffle my feet a little, setting both mine and Derek's drinks on the bedside table before sitting back on the bed next to him.

"Why?" I don't think it's an inappropriate question to ask.

After everything Derek and I have been through, why would he want me to stay? We have an arrangement. We don't talk, and we have sex. That's all it is. That's all this is _supposed_ to be.

"Because you're wearing my D-Rock hoodie," he sighs, his brown eyes locking with mine.

"So?" I ask incredulously, wondering what a hoodie has to do with anything.

" _So_. When I used to wear that hoodie, we used to sit up in my bed and talk and fool around while Dad and Nora weren't home."

I sigh. We did used to do all of those things. But that was almost another lifetime ago.

"We're not in high school anymore, Derek," I frown. "That just isn't how things are anymore."

Derek groans loudly, laying back on his bed, his head on his pillow, his eyes now focused on the sweatshirt I'm wearing and the 'D-Rock' logo on the chest.

"Well, why can't it be? We've spent the last couple of years slowly getting worse and worse and talking less and less."

I frown again, lying down next to my step-brother, sighing.

I guess Derek is right. Why can't it be like that anymore? Yes, we fight. But we've always fought. And even when we were fighting, most of the time we could still carry on a civil conversation.

"You're right. I know you're right."

Derek quirks a half smile that makes my toes tingle a little a laughs a genuine Derek Venturi laugh.

"Did you- Casey McDonald- just admit that I'm _right_?"

I smile and laugh lightly. This is most definitely the most civil conversation Derek and I have had in years. And it actually feels good to be able to talk to him. I'd almost forgotten what his laugh sounded like and what his non-sex voice sounded like.

"Yeah, don't get used to it."

* * *

So, funny story. I've had this chapter written on my phone for, like, months now. And I had a scene written that I didn't know how to finish, but today I looked at it, took out that scene and IMMEDIATELY liked the chapter 10x more. So. Here it is.

I'm trying to get back into writing, especially my LWD fanfictions, because I love them. So hopefully you guys can look forward to some new chapters here soon. Thanks for sticking around if you have- it means a lot.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

"How's Derek?" Lillian asks, pouring herself a fishbowl of coffee as I step through the front door to our apartment the next morning.

I laugh, dropping my house keys and cell phone on the kitchen island.

"He's fine," I reply, taking a seat across the island from where Lillian is standing.

Lillian reacted much better to the idea of Derek and I and our whatever this is than I expected. She and I stayed up most of the night after she'd figured it out and just talked about how Derek and I got to where we are and what it means and she listened. She didn't make assumptions or hate the idea— she understood it. She even went as far as to say that it made sense, in a weird, twisted kind of way. She said that Derek and I met at a time when our bodies and minds were starting to think about things like sex and that it made sense that Derek and I fell into the relationship we did considering the close proximity we lived in.

She also understood why I kept it a secret from her. She understood that I wasn't just keeping it a secret from her, but from everyone. It's not exactly celebrated for one to have sex with their step-sibling, and Derek and I know that, so it stays behind closed doors.

"Well, I know he's _fine,_ but how is he?" Lillian laughs, wiggling her eyebrows and taking a smug sip of her coffee. "I noticed you didn't come home last night. That's unusual."

I nod, furrowing my eyebrows, still unsure of what that meant myself, "He asked me to stay."

Lillian cocks her head to the side, questioning.

"We haven't spent a night together like that since he first moved to New York."

"So what changed?"

"He wants us to talk again. He said he doesn't want us to keep getting worse."

Lillian takes another sip of her coffee before sitting her mug down on the island, her eyebrows raising at me in disbelief.  
"And you say he's _not_ in love with you."

* * *

"So how's work going? Lillian says your season is going well," I ask, sitting next to Derek on his bed as he flicks through television channels to find something to watch.

"She's right. The team's doing well."

Derek lands on a dance recital, tossing the television clicker onto his bedside table before turning to look at me.

"You don't dance anymore," he says, and it's not a question.

He's right. I haven't stepped foot in a dance studio since I left Canada. I don't even know that I'd remember how to keep a rhythm, even if I tried.

I nod, leaning my head back against the wall, tucking my hands into the kangaroo pocket on the hoodie I'm wearing.

Derek pinches his eyebrows together, standing from the bed, looking down at me and reaching his hand out.

"C'mon, get up," Derek says sternly, and I tentatively reach up, taking his hand.

Derek hauls me up off the bed, his bare bicep flexing under the strain which, admittedly, makes my toes tingle a little.

Derek pulls me flush against him, keeping hold of my one hand, wrapping his other around my waist.

Derek slowly starts to sway back and forth and it hits me what he's doing. He's getting me to dance.

I smile up at my step-brother, swaying along with him, thinking about how strange of a dynamic we have. Sometimes we hate each other, sometimes we're up all night having marathon sex, and sometimes we're dancing like the other two scenarios never happen.

Derek picks up speed and I don't even know how long we're there, dancing around his room without any music, but by the end, we're both laughing and smiling and I can't remember the last time I had so much fun.

Derek twirls me around in a circle before pulling me back to him and doing one of the most seamless dips I've ever done without even trying.

By the time he pulls me back up, we're both panting and laughing in a way we haven't together in years.

Once I can catch my breath, I look up at my step-brother through my eyelashes, standing up on my toes to press my lips to his.

I circle my arms around his neck and he immediately follows suit, his arms tightening around my waist in an almost too-perfect way. The way we fit together— the way our bodies meld together— sends a shiver down my spine.

I pull back, my eyes locking with Derek's, my arms unmoving from around him and my entire world is full of Derek Venturi. He's all I can see and smell and his breath is all I can hear.

"Thank you," I whisper, and I really mean it.

Maybe this 'going backwards' thing and talking more might actually work out.

* * *

Shortly after our impromptu dance party, I decide I'd like to take a shower, which I frequently do at Derek's apartment instead of mine simply because Lillian insists on taking an hour long shower and draining all of the hot water from the apartment, leaving me with an ice cold shower— No thanks. I'd rather shower elsewhere than have a cold shower.

The steam from the nice, hot shower that's waiting for me is already filling up the room when Derek knocks on the bathroom door as I'm grabbing my basket of toiletries from under the sink.

I stand and open the door to see Derek holding out a towel for me, which I take and lay next to my basket on the counter.

Then an idea hits me.

I step closer to the man in front of me, my fingers tracing down his chest, dancing over the hardened muscles he's gained from years of hockey training, coming to a rest on the waistband of his jeans.

"Is Jake home yet?" I ask, tilting my head up to look at Derek.

He shakes his head 'no', and his lips turn up into that sexy half-smirk that he should probably just copyright at this point.

Damn, that Derek Venturi half-smirk.

"Good," I reply, pulling Derek through the bathroom door, shutting it behind him and pushing him up against it.

As soon as the bathroom door clicks shut, I stand up on my toes, our lips meeting in a heated kiss as my fingers are already undoing the fastenings on his jeans.

Derek and I make quick work of stripping our clothes off before we both step under the warm spray of the shower.

Derek's hands are running up and down my sides, aided by the layer of water that's coated my skin.

" _Derek_ ," I groan as he dips his head down to kiss his way down my neck.

Derek bites lightly into the skin on my neck before sucking what will probably be a very large bruise into my neck, making me shiver from head to toe.

Derek pushes me up against the wall of the shower, hiking one of my legs up to rest on his hip, his fingernails digging into my thigh.

Derek growls low in his throat before pressing his lips back to mine, nipping gently at my bottom lip.

" _Fuck_ , Case," Derek groans, pushing inside me like it's the first time in years.

And from there, there's no such thing as slow and steady— it's all fast thrusts, teeth clashing and a race towards a finish line.

But then, one sprint now and another later doesn't sound like too bad an idea to me.

* * *

I've been on a roll writing chapters, so here's another one. Next one should be out soonish.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

There's nothing quite like waking up to a sliver of light shining through the window, wrapped tightly in a warm, heavy comforter. It's one of the best feelings— to know that you don't have to be up quite yet and can drift back to sleep, if only for another hour or so.

"Just because you're a Princess doesn't mean you can take up my entire bed— move over!" a groggy voice sleep-shouts from beside me, reminding me of where I am and who's bed I'm in.

I scoot over, pressing myself as far against the wall as I can, turning my back to the man beside me, and it hits me how strange all of this is.

We're now a little over a week out from going home to Canada to visit our family, and Derek and I have continued to get along— mostly.

Of course, there will always be fights and Derek and I will probably never get past a certain point of civility, but I am sleeping in his bed, so we can at least stand to be in the same room as one another for something other than sex. This is progress.

Derek rolls over and wraps his arm around me, pulling me back against him, which, admittedly is a weird feeling, but he's warm and comfortable and he smells like sleep and I allow myself to lean back into it, welcoming the feeling of falling back asleep.

For now, in the bubble of early morning, I'll allow myself to enjoy this— if only for a moment.

* * *

Two days. We have two days until Canada. This can't be happening.

The universe sure has a funny way of surprising you sometimes.

I'm sitting on the floor of the bathroom in mine and Lillian's apartment, thanking whoever's listening for the small miracle of Lillian being out right now— especially now.

You're supposed to put your head between your knees when you're nauseous, right? Because I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I reach up to the counter and pull down the little white stick that is about to change my life and look at it again, as if hoping that the results will change.

Two lines.

And just like that, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I can't seem to stop them.

So here I am, sitting on the floor of my bathroom— alone— crying and _pregnant_.

 _Pregnant_.

That word sounds so weird dancing around in my head, but there it is. _Pregnant_.

 _I am pregnant_.

"Case? Are you home?" the voice of my roommate calls from the other room, and it sounds like she's just come through the front door.

Lillian knocks on the bathroom door, and I think I manage to say, "It's open," through the tears and cracking voice.

"Casey?" Lillian asks, worry in her voice as she falls to her knees next to me. "What's going on?"

I can't bring myself to say it out loud— as if that makes it more real— so I just show her the stick in my hand and the two dark pink lines.

"Oh, Casey," Lillian gasps, pulling me into her arms, laying my head on her shoulder as I continue to sob. "You're pregnant?"

I nod, my tears staining streaks on Lillian's shoulder, and suddenly I realize that I'm shaking.

"Is it Derek's?"

I nod again, reminded of just how bad this situation is. I'm pregnant with my step-brother's child, and in two days, I'll be back home, sitting around a dinner table with our parents and siblings and I'll have to pretend nothing's wrong. Sure. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 _What time is our flight?_

 _Are you here?_

 _I'm at the gate, where are you?_

 _Why aren't you answering me?_

 _Casey?_

 _…_ _Hello?_

"Casey! There you are!" I hear from across the airport and my heart sinks in my chest.

Derek has been texting and calling me since this morning about our flight home, and I just couldn't bring myself to answer.

He asked me to come over yesterday, but I skillfully avoided seeing him by telling him I was sick— and I was. I was so anxious all day that I spent basically the entire day emptying the contents of my stomach.

"Why weren't you answering me all morning? I half expected you to show up at my apartment to make sure I was up and ready to be here two hours early," Derek laughs, taking one of my bags out of my hands and slinging it over his shoulder.

"You're a big boy, you can get yourself ready on your own."

I still haven't told Derek. And yes, I know that that's not fair to him. Derek is a part of this too— this is his baby too. But how am I supposed to tell him that his world is about to flip upside down?

Derek has a career and he's successful, and from what I can tell, he's happy with his life. This cannot possibly be something he wants. I'm not even sure this is what _I_ want, but we are where we are. There's no undo button on life.

And even if Derek _does_ want children, I doubt he wants them now, and I can almost guarantee he doesn't want them with _me_.

"Well, I missed you last night," Derek says as we head towards the boarding line, and my stomach immediately knots up.

"You can go one day without getting laid, Derek, it won't kill you."

"I didn't say I missed the sex. I said I missed you."

* * *

"Casey! Derek!" Lizzie shrieks as soon as Derek and I make even one step through the front door.

Thankfully, Derek and I were sat several rows apart on the airplane, so I was able to successfully avoid him, but now, under the same roof, I doubt I'll get so lucky.

Almost immediately, my mom emerges from the kitchen, a smile spreading across her face when she sees Derek and I.

Mom throws her arms around me, nearly knocking me over just by how excited she is. Almost unconsciously, while trying to catch my balance, one of my hands flies on my stomach, as if protecting it from harm, the other hugging my mom back tightly. I hadn't realized how much I missed her until now.

I've had two days to adjust to the news, and I'm still not thrilled and I have no idea how to tell Derek, but the least I can do in the meantime is to protect this baby from any harm.

When Mom steps back from me, her eyes quickly fall to her step-son, who, until now, has been silent, standing in the doorway, as if unsure if he should come inside.

Mom smiles a motherly half-smile, placing both of her hands on the sides of Derek's face, looking at him intently. This is the first time either of our parents have seen Derek since the big fight, and to not see your child in four years, I imagine would be difficult. Mom's eyes are even tearing up.

"Derek," Mom whispers, hugging him tightly. "I'm glad you're home."

* * *

"So Derek, how've you been?" Mom asks, a little apprehensively, as if she's unsure what's okay to ask.

"Can't complain."

Derek still hasn't really spoken to our parents too much, but as much as the three of them can, they've been trying. It's just going to take some time to recover four years of lost time.

"And hockey? We've been watching all of your games. Your season this year was really great," George adds, looking at his son with pride.

It's then that a photo on the table behind the dining table catches my eye. It's a photo of Derek when he was in high school and it almost doesn't even look like the man sitting across from me.

Derek still dawns the shaggy hair look, but his face is hardened and he looks older. He's twenty-three now, and he definitely has grown into himself. He also hasn't shaved in a few days, so he has a dusting of stubble along his jaw, which he pulls off _very well_.

Derek has always been a good-looking guy (and didn't he know it) but he's just grown into himself and he seems to continue to age like wine.

I must've missed Derek's response about hockey, but everyone is smiling, so it couldn't have been too bad.

"And what about a girlfriend? Is there one?" Mom asks, smiling.

"Are you kidding? There's probably three," Edwin jokes, elbowing Derek, which the elder brother returns in kind.

Derek laughs lightly, his eyes flickering to me for a second so quick I'm almost not even sure it happened.

"Uh, no," Derek laughs nervously. "No girlfriend."

"Well, how surprising," Mom smiles, no doubt wondering if Derek grew up since he came to New York.

And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wondering the same thing. I know Derek better than anyone, and even I don't know how he's going to react to being told he's going to be a father.

* * *

Plot twist! Kinda. Hope you guys liked this chapter. More coming soon.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

"Casey, why won't you talk to me? You've been avoiding me since we left New York. Did something happen?"

 _Yeah, you could say that._

I knew I couldn't get lucky enough to have just one minute alone after dinner, especially not in this house.

At the very least, dinner was mainly focused on Derek, which was a minor blessing in the scheme of things. I think Derek was surprised by how little animosity Mom and George still carried. I think Derek fails to realize that Mom and George are parents first, and he is their child, and no matter how many fights they have, that fact won't change.

"Case?" Derek's voice sounds almost hurt, and I know I'm not being fair to him.

We really have been getting along since we decided to talk more, and we have been— talking more. I would still go to his apartment when his roommate was out and we'd have sex, like always, but then I'd stay, and we'd talk or watch a movie and it's been nice.

I don't necessarily owe him anything because it's not like we have that stellar of a relationship to begin with, even with the way things have been going recently, but it's also not fair for me to freeze him out like I have been. It takes two to tango, so I can't solely blame him for my current situation, even if I wanted to.

I'm standing in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water, trying to figure out _what_ to say to the man standing next to me.

Derek reaches out and places his hand on my arm, trying in vain to get me to look at him or talk to him.

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm just-," I start, turning to face him, wondering if I'm really ready to tell him. "I'm just still not feeling very well."

 _Guess I'm not ready._

And as if on cue, I take one sip of my water and nearly immediately feel my stomach turn.

I yank my arm away from Derek, running as fast as my feet will move up the stairs, to the bathroom, falling to my knees and hurling my dinner back up into the toilet.

I hadn't noticed it when I was trying to not vomit all up the stairs, but Derek must've followed me, because I feel his hands pulling my hair back from my face and off my neck and holding it away from the danger zone.

Once I've sufficiently emptied my stomach of any and all contents, I sit back against the bathtub, leaning my head against the cool porcelain, trying to will away the nausea.

"Casey, what is going on? You said you were sick, but I just assumed you just didn't want to come over last night."

I sigh.

"It's not that, Derek," I frown. "I've just got some kind of stomach bug. I'm sure I'll be better soon."

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't told him yet? Casey, you've been home for two days," Lillian asks, exasperated on the other end of the telephone.

"I know, I know," I sigh. "And I've been throwing up since I got here, and even George is starting to look suspicious— and he's oblivious to everything."

I'm sitting outside on the front porch, still trying to decide how to tell Derek about our new family addition, talking to Lillian, who I'm really starting to miss considering she's currently the only one who knows that I'm pregnant, and who I can talk to freely.

"Casey, you need to tell him. You've known for almost a week. How would you like it if Derek kept a secret from you like this?"

"I know, Lillian, I'll tell him. I just have to figure out how…"

* * *

"Der- _ek_ , you don't live here anymore! You don't get to monopolize the tv anymore!" I shout, reaching my hand out for the tv clicker.

Derek is currently lounging in his recliner as if he never left, flicking through channels for some hockey game he wants to watch, and I'm on the couch next to him, getting a weird sense of deja vu. I feel like I've been transported back to high school.

"You don't live here either!" Derek counters, laughing as he waves the clicker in front of me.

"I guess some things never change, huh?" I hear George say to Mom from behind the sofa.

Lizzie is sitting next to me, trying not to smirk and Edwin is all out laughing from the stairs.

Well, no, I guess some things never change. For example, Derek and I fighting— that won't change until one of us is six feet under— or Derek stealing the television clicker. But other things… other things change.

"Well, you should learn to share," I snap, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at Derek defiantly.

"I share just fine— just not with you," Derek shoots back, raising his eyebrow into a high arch.

 _Oh sure, you'll share your bed and your shower with me, but not a stupid tv clicker._

"Well, I think you should. After all, I'm the one who's _pre_ — uh, prettier."

 _Fuck._

Thankfully, I don't think anyone notices the slip, but now I _have_ to tell Derek. If I'm almost blurting out that I'm pregnant in front of our entire family, I should probably at least tell the father first.

* * *

"Derek? Can I talk to you?" I ask, knocking on his open bedroom door after everyone else has gone to sleep.

"I don't know, can you? You've barely spoken to me since we got here."

Derek looks at me like I've just stolen something from him, but even still, he scoots over to one side of his bed, leaving some space for me next to him.

"I know," I say, closing his bedroom door behind me and crawling into bed next to him, "I just— there's something I have to tell you and I just haven't known how."

"When have you ever not known how to say something? You're not shy, just go ahead and say it."

Derek flicks through some car magazine, barely acknowledging that I'm trying to tell him something.

"D, can you please put away the magazine? I really need to talk to you."

Derek sighs and tosses the magazine to the side, turning to look at me, his face clearly displaying the contempt he's feeling.

"Fine, Case, but I know what you're gonna say anyway, so don't worry, no hard feelings. We'll just go back to New York and you can stop coming over and you don't have to see me anymore."

I cock my head to the side, confused, but I guess it gives me an in to start to tell Derek what's been going on. After all, I'm not so sure I want to go back to New York under the circumstances.

"What? What are you talking about?" I ask, incredulously.

"I'm talking about you calling it quits on our arrangement," Derek replies, crossing his arms over his chest, puffing out his bare chest.

I roll my eyes, exhaling heavily. Of course Derek would think this was all about sex. I swear, this man thinks of nothing else.

"Way off base," I laugh, shaking my head. "But I don't think I'll be going back to New York."

Derek seems to process what I just said before realization hits.

"What do you mean you're _not_ going back to New York? What about your job and your apartment? And Lillian?"

Those are all entirely valid questions, and truth be told, I'm not sure. I haven't talked to Lillian yet, and I can't just leave her without a roommate and a New York City apartment rent to pay by herself.

"Well, I freelance, so my job I can do from anywhere. But as for the apartment and Lillian, I need to talk to her. But I'm sure she'll understand. She'd want me to be with my family right now too— I think that's what's best for _everyone_ involved."

Derek scrunches his eyebrows together, very clearly confused by what I'm saying. But then his face softens, and his eyes turn down and he looks almost hurt, or maybe even scared.

"Casey, are you sick? Y'know, like, _sick_?"

I sigh heavily, frustrated with myself. Why can't I just tell him?

"Ugh, no! I'm not sick," I groan, exasperated. "I'm pregnant!"

As soon as those words leave my lips, I'm mentally kicking myself, my hands flying up to cover my big mouth. That is _not_ how I intended to tell my step-brother that he's going to be a father.

"Did you just say _pregnant_?"

* * *

Uh oh. How do you guys think he's going to react? Good? Bad?


	8. Chapter 8

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

"Pregnant? You're _pregnant_?" Derek asks, his eyes as wide as golfballs.

I nod, pursing my lips, unsure of what exactly I'm supposed to say.

"And it's _mine_?"

I roll my eyes, giving Derek a pointed look.

"Of course it's yours. Unless there was some kind of divine intervention, it has to be yours. You're the only person I've ever slept with."

Derek nods, looking at me intently.

"So what do you want to do?"

Well, that's a loaded question. There are about a million and one ways I could answer that question. _Scream, cry, run like hell, hide_ — all valid answers.

"Well, that's why I'm considering moving back home. You're busy and your job demands a lot of your time, so I thought having the family around to help out might make things easier when you're not around," I say, nervously. "Y'know, provided they don't hate us when they find out."

It wouldn't be easy, but we could make it work. Derek could fly home on off-seasons and be home to see the baby, and while he's away, I would have the extra hands of the rest of the family to help out if I need it— hopefully.

Derek sighs heavily, scooting closer to me on the bed, both of our heads lying on the same pillow now, him facing towards me.

He's so close I can smell his toothpaste, and it reminds me of when Derek and I were in high school and spent a lot of nights laying just like this.

"I don't know that I want to spend most of the year away from you and this baby. If you move back here, I will too," Derek states, placing one of his hands on my hip, running his thumb along my hip bone.

"What about hockey?"

"There were plenty of Canadian teams that were interested in me before I signed with the Devils. We'll make it work."

I nod, unsure of how we're supposed to make this happen— and better yet, how we're supposed to tell our family about this.

"Derek, I'm scared," I finally bring myself to say exactly what I've been thinking since I found out.

This situation could not be any worse. I'm twenty-two, barely have a steady job, I can barely afford to feed myself, let alone a baby, and I'm _pregnant_ with my _step-brother's_ child. Despite Derek and I not being a 'couple' in the traditional sense, at least this child _will_ have two parents who love them, and that's just going to have to be enough to keep me sane for right now.

Derek wraps both of his arms around me, pulling me flush against him, his strong arms holding me tight as I lay my head on his chest.

"I know, Case, me too."

* * *

It's early the next morning when I stir awake and realize I'd fallen asleep in Derek's room, my head still on his chest and his arms still wrapped around me.

Derek and I had stayed up late trying to figure out what we are going to do and how to best handle the situation we're in.

We decided that I'm going to stay in London from now on. We both decided that being around our family is the best environment for me and the baby right now. Derek is going to go back to New York for a couple of weeks to get his apartment and mine straightened out and he's going to help Lillian find somewhere to live and pack my stuff up to ship back home.

The only thing we haven't quite figured out is how we're going to tell our parents and siblings. It's going to be extremely difficult to explain to them that this pregnancy is the product of a sexual relationship Derek and I have carried on for several years behind their backs.

And of course, Derek and I aren't _together_ , but at the very least, we get along better now than we have in the past.

This is just going to be a _very_ interesting next few days.

But I do know one thing for sure— Derek has always had my back, and I have very little doubt he's going to stop now.

* * *

"Is that all you're eating?" Mom asks, eyeing the single piece of toast in my hand. "I know you haven't been feeling well, but it might help to eat something more substantial."

 _Yeah, but I've been throwing up every morning, so whatever I eat is coming back up in about an hour anyway._

"I know, Mom, maybe I'll eat something more later," I smile, trying to ease her worry.

The last thing I need is someone figuring out that I'm pregnant before I tell them.

It's around 7:30 in the morning and the before-school routine of the McDonald-Venturi household seems like it hasn't changed much, even with Derek and I not participating anymore.

Lizzie and Edwin are arguing over who's turn it is to drive to school and Marti is rushing to finish her homework at the kitchen island, which reminds me heavily of her eldest brother, who is across the kitchen from me, sitting on the counter, eating dry cereal straight out of the box.

George already left to get to the office early to meet with a client and Mom is about to do the same, but it seems like everyone is happy and well.

"So, Case, what are you and Derek going to do today? Have you talked to Sam and Emily? Do they know you're home?" Lizzie asks, sneakily taking the car keys from the hook in the laundry room and shoving them into her pocket when Edwin isn't looking.

"I talked to Emily when we first got here, but she's busy with the baby and her and Sam just got married, so I don't want intrude on their 'just married' time."

Emily and I haven't talked too much since I moved to New York, but we have stayed in touch. We'd talk every few weeks on the phone or email, and I still consider her a friend, but what I said to Lizzie is true— she just got married and she and Sam just had their second child together, so I don't think me crash-landing into their lives _right now_ is a great idea.

"Oh, that's right! I've been meaning to send her gift over!" Mom gasps, clearly still as frazzled as ever, "Well, since you're sick anyway, maybe it's best to stay away from the baby for a while."

 _Well, I certainly don't think Emily's baby is going to catch what I have, but y'know, saving face and all that._

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Derek asks, leaning against the door frame of my bedroom after I've taken a shower once everyone else has left the house for the day.

I sigh, holding the towel that's wrapped around me with one hand and digging through my suitcase for something to wear with the other.

"I'm not nauseous, but my back hurts. I just can't believe this is happening," I frown, sitting down on my bed with a huff. "How are _you_ the one holding it together right now?"

Derek steps into my room, closing the door behind him before crouching down in front of me, placing his hands on my hips.

"One of us has to," Derek smiles that half-smile, his big brown eyes staring up at me.

I'm not sure why I do it— maybe it's because he's being so nice, and keeping me from losing my mind (too late)— but I reach up with one hand, running my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, and I kiss him.

As surprised as he was, from the moment Derek found out, he's done nothing but take care of me. As strange as it sounds, I don't think I'd want to be starting a family with anyone else. Derek has shown me in the past twelve hours the same thing he's shown me since I was fifteen— that he'll always be there to protect me.

* * *

Hey, guys. Just letting you know, my cat had emergency surgery this morning, so please be patient with me with updates the next few days. Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

"I'm really going to miss you when you leave tomorrow morning," Mom says to me as the two of us sit on the living room sofa, enjoying some tea before bed.

Mom reaches out, brushing a chunk of my hair out of my face, looking at me as if she's about to cry.

I sigh. Well, I guess since I'm _supposed_ to be leaving tomorrow, I should probably tell her I'm not.

"Well, how would you feel if I didn't leave tomorrow?"

Mom cocks her head to the side, scrunching her eyebrows together.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't you be leaving tomorrow?" she asks, a hint of excitement in her voice, but mostly concern.

Derek and I decided that we're going to wait until he leaves to go back to New York for me to tell Mom and George about the pregnancy. We just thought it would be easier for them to handle coming from me, rather than having to look both of us in the eye once we tell them.

We also talked to Lillian, and as expected, she is all for me staying in London. She agrees that it's the best thing for me and the baby, and she said she's just going to have to come visit soon since we won't be roommates anymore.

Once Derek gets back to New York, he's going to help her pack our apartment up and move her into Derek's apartment. Derek also talked to his roommate, Jake, who is rather excited to be gaining a pretty blonde roommate after his recent breakup with his girlfriend— so it just seems like everything is going to work out for everyone.

"I just feel like I should to be around the family right now," I smile, taking a sip of my tea.

"Well, Casey," Mom gasps, setting her mug of tea on the coffee table so she can hug me. "I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we'd love to have you home for a while. But, as your mother, I also have to ask— Why? What makes you want to come home after four years?"

"I just miss you guys, is all," I lie, immediately feeling guilty about doing so. "I think family is important and I just want to be around you guys a little while longer."

* * *

"You know this is the longest we'll have been apart since I moved to New York, right?" I ask, watching as Derek packs up his suitcase to leave tomorrow morning.

It's so strange, really, the relationship Derek and I have. We've been a part of each other's lives for eight years, and the longest we've been away from each other has only been a couple of months. If you had told pre-sex-with-Derek Casey that she would have to deal with the aforementioned man on an every day basis since she met him, she might've screamed. But now? Now, I'm wondering what a few weeks away from him will be like. Whether I asked for it or not, Derek _is_ a huge part of my life (and now an even _bigger_ part) and him being gone will be… _different_.

"You gonna miss me, Princess?" Derek asks, a darkness in his voice that makes my throat go dry.

I don't get to respond, although I'm not even sure how I _would_ respond to that question. But what I do know is when Derek posed the question of ' _You gonna miss me?_ ' my heart started hammering against my ribcage and my stomach tied in knots.

I don't get to respond because Derek almost immediately leans down, looming over me as I'm sitting on his bed, leaning in to press his lips to mine.

" _Derek_ ," I whisper against his lips, my hands immediately reaching up to tangle into his hair.

I tug lightly on his hair, pulling him down onto the bed with me as I lie back.

"Because," Derek drawls, trailing kisses and bites down my neck. "I might miss you— just a little."

Derek kneels up, tearing his own t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor before leaning back down over me.

I can't help but bite my lip at the sight, reaching up to trace my hands down the hardened muscles in front of me.

Derek leans in close to me, his breath ghosting over my face, his lips barely an inch from mine.

"What do you say we use the next few hours wisely?" Derek asks, even though I know it's not a question, as he guides my arms up above my head.

Derek drags his hands down my arms, over my chest and down my sides before coming to a stop at the hem of my sweater. He drags the fabric up my torso, pushing it up over my head and dropping it to the floor behind the bed.

I nod in agreement, my body tingling from head to toe.

Derek smirks that sexy half-smirk, knowing all too well what it does to me as he leans in, this time trailing his lips down my neck and chest.

Derek comes to a stop at one of my breasts, blowing cold air over my nipple, sending a shiver up my spine, causing me to bite down hard into my lip.

" _Der-ek,_ " I whine, moving my hand down to pull at Derek's hair again.

Getting the hint, Derek swirls his tongue over my nipple and _holy fuck._ My head tilts back, falling off the edge of the bed, but I can't bring myself to care.

Derek lifts his head from my chest, eyeing me, his pupils wide as he undoes the button and zipper on my jeans, yanking the fabric down and off my legs.

Derek stands from the bed and I take the opportunity to slide underneath the covers, watching as my step-brother strips himself down, kicking his jeans to the side before lunging back at me.

He joins me under the comforter, our lips meeting in a heated kiss and my arms immediately raise to wrap around his neck.

Derek runs his hands up and down my sides, down over my hip and comes to a rest on my thigh, his fingernails digging into my skin.

Derek taps the inside of my thigh with the back of his hand, urging me to open my legs, and I do.

Almost immediately, I feel two of Derek's fingers push inside me, my breath hitching in my chest.

Derek gives me a minute to adjust to the intrusion before pumping his fingers in and out, and I crush my lips closer to his, if that's even possible, to keep from making too much noise.

" _Oh, my gosh_ , Derek," I can't help but moan, my head tilting back unconsciously as my eyes flutter closed.

Derek slowly eases his fingers out, kneeling up above me, smirking down at me before hitching one of my legs up on his hip and pushing himself inside me.

I suck in a breath, my fingernails raking down my step-brother's back as he dips down to press his lips to where my neck and shoulder meet, a groan forcing it's way out of his throat.

Derek begins thrusting, picking up speed and before long, we're both clawing at each other, pleasure coursing through our bodies.

I don't realize how loud I must be, but Derek claps his hand over my mouth, breathing, "You better quiet down or you're gonna wake the whole damn house up," against my neck.

Derek slides his hand down my body, coming to rest on my hip, gripping tightly as he thrusts into me harder and faster. His other hand is above my head bracing himself and I can see he's shaking slightly.

I can feel myself coming closer to the end, so I reach up, tangling my fingers into Derek's hair and pull his lips down to mine, tilting my hips up to meet his thrusts.

Before I know it, my orgasm hits me full-force and I clench my teeth to keep from yelling.

" _Cas-ey_ ," my name comes out broken before Derek groans and drops his head to my shoulder, riding out his own orgasm before pulling slowly out of me.

Derek drops down onto his back next to me, accidentally shoving his suitcase off the bed with a _thud_ , his chest heaving as he turns his head to look at me.

"Well, that was a hell of a ' _See you later_ ', don't you think?"

* * *

"Are you alright, Casey? You said you needed to tell us something?" Mom asks, worry in her voice as her, George and I stand circled around the kitchen island the night after Derek leaves to go back to New York.

"Yes, I do," I sigh, twiddling my thumbs out of nervousness. "And I'm not sure how you're going to take it, so if you want me to leave after I tell you, I will."

Mom and George share a look, confused.

"Casey, we're your parents. There's nothing you could say or do that we wouldn't accept. That's not how parenting works," George says, scrunching his eyebrows together, laughing a little.

I take a deep breath, deciding how to start.

"Well, for starters, I'm not just staying here for a little while longer- I'm moving back home permanently."

An elated smile spreads across my mom's face and I can't help but smile back a little. _Yeah, that's the good news_.

"Casey! That's wonderful! We would love to have you back home!" Mom almost yells, reaching out to hold my hands, which I unconsciously jerk away.

"There's more," I state, swallowing down a lump in my throat the size of a tennis ball.

Mom and George nod encouragingly for me to continue.

"I'm pregnant," I say, almost too quietly to hear, but by the looks on their faces, Mom and George hear me just fine.

" _Pregnant_?" Mom asks, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what her tone means.

I nod, looking up to meet their eyes for the first time.

"And this is why you're moving home? Because you're pregnant?" George wonders.

I nod again, unable to find words.

"Well, what about the father? How does he feel about you leaving New York?" Mom asks, of course being the sensible one in this room.

I take another deep breath. _Well, this is it_.

"He's also moving back home here."

"Home? You managed to find a Canadian boy in New York City?" George asks, his tone disbelieving.

"Uh, not exactly. I meant he's moving back home _here_ \- as in _this house_."

George tilts his head in confusion, but by the look on Mom's face, she's figured it out.

" _Derek_ ," Mom states, matter-of-factly, her frown creating wrinkles in her forehead. "Derek's the father, isn't he?"

"Yes," I reply, again, almost whispering. "He is."

"Derek?" George asks, shocked. "As in your step-brother, Derek?"

"Yes."

Mom and George exchange a look, and take a moment to compose themselves before Mom speaks again.

"Are you two…?" Mom asks, and I know she's trying to work out how this must've happened.

"Um, no. We're not _together_ ," I answer, wondering if I'm really about to tell my parents about my sexual relationship with my step-brother.

"But you two…um… you…," George scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

"Had sex? Yes. _A few times_."

It's not lying! It's stretching the truth… kinda.

"Define 'a few times'," Mom says, her tone stern.

 _Damnit_.

"Roughly?" I start. "A few times a week? For about five years?"

 _Well, that sounds a lot worse than it is. Or I'm numb to it by now. Either way._

"Five years?!" Mom and George almost yell in unison.

I bite my lip nervously, stepping back from the counter slightly, my hands immediately flying to shield my stomach.

"You guys were still living here five years ago," Mom gives me a pointed look once she does the math.

"Yes, we were," I say, knowing there's no point in lying to them from this point forward.

"Alright. We'll talk about _that_ later. Does Derek know? That you're pregnant?"

I nod.

"As we speak, he's helping Lillian pack up our apartment to ship my stuff here, and tomorrow he's doing the same for his own apartment. And then he's going to talk to his coach about work. He'll be coming back home once everything is settled in New York."

Mom and George share a look again before Mom reaches out and takes my hand in hers, looking me directly in the eye.

"Well, then. You should go get some sleep, Casey. We can talk more tomorrow morning. You and the baby need sleep."

Mom then steps around the kitchen island, wrapping her arms around me, and kissing my forehead, reassuring me a little that she isn't completely disgusted with Derek and I.

I smile an apprehensive half-smile at Mom and George before heading upstairs, following my mother's directions to get some sleep.

I'm about to head into my bedroom when I stop short, beelining to the one empty bedroom in the house.

With one hand on my stomach, I step through the threshold of my step-brother's bedroom, closing the door behind me before crawling into his already unmade bed.

I smile contently, wrapping myself in blankets and lying my head on a pillow that smells like Derek's aftershave, falling asleep with the same ease as if I was curled up with Derek himself.

* * *

Hey guys. Thank you for the well wishes for my cat. He seems to be doing a little better since his surgery. We just have to watch him for the next couple of weeks in case it happens again. But he's doing all of the things the vet said he should be, so those are good signs.

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Ten

* * *

"Well, I think we deserve a break," Lillian states, matter-of-factly as she tapes up one more box.

Lillian looks over her shoulder, catching a nod from the other person in the room before she heads into the kitchen.

"Beer?" she calls over her shoulder, grabbing two bottles out of the fridge.

"Please," Derek responds, following the curly-haired woman into the kitchen.

Lillian takes a seat on the counter next to the fridge, holding out a bottle to Derek, which he takes, leaning against the kitchen island counter opposite her.

Both Lillian and Derek crack the tops off their drinks, each taking a generous swig.

"Have you talked to her?" Lillian asks, smiling.

Derek laughs lightly, looking down at his hands before back up at the blonde in front of him.

"This morning. She told our parents last night," he replies.

Lillian's eyes widen.

"And?"

"She said she isn't sure how they're feeling. She said when she was done telling them, her mom hugged her and told her to go upstairs and get some sleep."

Lillian scrunches her eyebrows together, also unsure of what that might mean. Sometimes silence is worse than a response.

"Can I ask you something, Derek?" Lillian asks, taking another swig of her beer.

Derek nods, though he's got a feeling he knows what Lillian is about to ask.

"Are you in love with her?"

 _Bingo_.

Derek nods again, laughing nervously as his eyes meet Lillian's.

"I've been in love with her since I was fifteen."

Lillian shakes her head.

"Well, why haven't you told her then?" Lillian asks, incredulously, setting her drink down next to her.

Derek laughs, this time a genuine, _that was funny_ laugh.

"Lillian, how much has Casey told you about our relationship?" Derek wonders, knowing the answer would probably be 'not much' otherwise Lillian would know _why_.

"Just that you guys never really got along— until you did," Lillian wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, laughing a little.

Derek smiles, taking a sip of his beer.

"You're a little right," Derek starts. "When we met, it was like… fire and gasoline. We brought out the worst in each other because all we ever did was fight. But, while I would never tell a girl that when a guy picks on her, it means he likes her— that's what it was. It was like pigtail pulling. I picked on Casey because if I didn't, I was gonna blurt out that I was in love with her in the middle of family dinner."

"But what about now? Casey said you guys fight just as much now as you did in high school?"

Derek nods.

"Yeah, that's true. We've gotten better in the last few months, but yeah, we still fight. I think we just got so good at it that it comes naturally now."

"Fair enough, but then how did the _other stuff_ come about?" Lillian asks, feeling slightly strange asking her best friend's… whatever he is…about their sex life.

"The sex?" Derek asks, laughing at the way Lillian almost spits her drink out. "Well, we were in the middle of a fight. I did something mean and Casey called me out on it. And I just couldn't take it anymore, so I kissed her."

"But you never told her you were in love with her? Why? You must've had a million opportunities to say something."

Lillian's right. Derek did have plenty of opportunities to tell Casey how he felt about her, but what if he did and she didn't feel the same way?

"Casey is… She's beautiful, and she's brilliant, and she's kind, and I'm none of those things."

It's then that Lillian understands. She understands why Derek has never told Casey how he feels about her.

"You think she's too good for you, don't you?" Lillian questions, looking at Derek intently.

Derek's brown eyes meet with Lillian's and she can see in his eyes that she was right.

"Well, she is. I'm not good enough to be with someone like _her_."

Lillian smiles, taking one last swig of her beer before dropping it in the sink and hopping down off the counter.

Lillian turns back to Derek, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, for what it's worth— I think she's in love with you too, she just doesn't know how to say it."

* * *

"Case?" I hear a voice at the door, which stirs me awake from a deep, comfortable sleep.

I sit up quickly, looking to the doorway where my sister is standing, staring at me like I've got three heads.

Lizzie raises her eyebrows at me, no doubt wondering why I was just sleeping in our step-brother's bed.

"I guess it _is_ true then," Lizzie says, almost to herself before stepping further into the room, closing the door behind her.

My eyebrows furrow, "What's true?"

"That you're pregnant and Derek is the father," Lizzie replies, her voice uneven and sounding confused.

"How do you know about that?" I ask, almost yelling.

"Edwin," Lizzie laughs, coming to sit beside me on Derek's bed. "He was listening from the stairs when you and Mom and George were talking last night."

 _Of course he was._

I sigh heavily.

"Will you two ever grow out of spying on people?" I ask, laughing lightly.

I know I should be mad that Edwin was listening in and that he told Lizzie what he heard, but they were going to find out eventually, so I guess now is as good a time as any.

"Not likely," Lizzie replies easily, smiling back at me.

"Yeah, I thought so," I smile, stretching my back, which seems to always be sore now.

I can't help but wince a little, my body still getting used to all of these changes.

"Casey?" Lizzie asks. "Does that mean that Derek was X?"

I purse my lips, running my fingers through my hair, nodding in response.

Lizzie seems to think for a minute before her eyebrows scrunch together and her nose pinches up.

"So that means that when you left that night when I was in New York, you went to see Derek?"

I nod again.

"And while Lillian and I were watching a movie at your apartment, you were… _doing it_ with our step-brother?"

I can't help but laugh lightly at that.

"Lillian said you'd been seeing X for years— Why didn't you ever tell me?"

I smile a half-smile at my sister, taking her hand in mine.

"Lizzie," I sigh. "Derek and I have a _very_ complicated relationship. We always have. I didn't want to drag anyone else into it."

Lizzie nods, understanding as much as she can. Lizzie is eighteen years-old. She knows life isn't always cupcakes and rainbows. Sometimes life is messy and difficult and weird.

"Do you love him?"

I think for a second, wondering how to respond.

"I care about him. He's important to me. And he's only been gone for a day and I miss him."

Lizzie smiles, squeezing my hand.

"Well, I think that says a lot about how you feel about him— He's worth being missed."

* * *

"McDonald?"

My head immediately picks up from the magazine I'd been flipping through and I smile at the woman in front of me.

"You can come on back, is anyone else joining you today?" she asks, a file folder in her hands as she leads me back to a private room.

It's been a few weeks since Derek left, and unfortunately, he wasn't able to make it back to come to this appointment with me. But with any luck, he'll be home soon and can come to future ones.

"Not this time. The father is in New York for a few weeks. He'll be here next time."

The ultrasound technician smiles as I sit up on the bench, and I can't help but feel a little giddy. Today is a _very_ big day.

The ultrasound goes by well— baby is healthy and all looks well, ten fingers and ten toes, working organs, et cetera.

"And are you finding out the sex today?" the technician asks.

"Yes, I'd like to."

The technician turns the screen toward me a little more so it's easier to see before typing something out on the screen.

 _Oh, boy_. Derek is gonna flip.

 _It's a girl!_

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. More should be coming soon.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

* * *

Today has been a _long_ day. I feel like I've been sitting on the sofa, twiddling my thumbs for _hours_.

Every minute or so, my eyes flicker to the front door.

It's been over five weeks since Derek left for New York. It took longer than either of us thought to get everything settled, but Derek is finally on his way home.

I was right. These five weeks _have_ been weird. And I have actually really missed Derek. This baby will be here before we know it and she needs her father to be here when she comes.

His flight landed already, so now all I'm waiting for is for him to walk through that door.

"He'll be home soon, Case," Mom says, handing me a mug of hot tea, sitting down next to me on the sofa. "Stressing isn't going to get him here any sooner."

I sigh. She's right. I know she's right.

I take a sip of my tea, willing myself to calm down, placing the mug on the coffee table in front of me.

"So how did Derek react to finding out she's a girl?" Mom smiles, very obviously trying to take my mind off of waiting.

Mom has really come around since Derek left. At first, I didn't know what to think or what she was thinking, but she's really helped a lot these last few weeks.

She said she's not angry that Derek and I have the relationship we do, and she accepts that we're having a baby together, but she's disappointed that we didn't tell her and George the first time something happened, as we were still living at home then.

But if you ask me, she seems excited that she'll have a granddaughter to spoil, regardless of circumstances.

"He hasn't," I reply.

Derek insisted that he didn't want to know the sex of the baby until he got home. I've known for two weeks that we're having a girl, but Derek still doesn't know.

"Wow," Mom laughs. "He actually stuck to not wanting to know until he got home?"

I nod, laughing a little in return, rubbing my stomach unconsciously.

It's then that my ears perk up. I hear the doorknob turning and I sit up a little straighter on the sofa.

The front door flies open and through it steps Derek, windswept hair, leather jacket and all.

I immediately shoot up off the couch, throwing myself into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Woah, hey!" Derek laughs, stumbling as I almost knock him over before coiling his arms around me in return.

I don't know how long we're standing there, holding onto each other, but I vaguely hear a couple of sets of footsteps entering the living room from both upstairs and the kitchen.

I pull back from my step-brother, but only slightly.

"I missed you," I whisper, making eye contact with those deep brown eyes.

And I mean it. I _actually_ missed him. I missed the arguing and I missed him being around all the time.

Years ago, I would've thought that being Derek-free for a few weeks would've been great, but all it did was leave an ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

Derek quirks that half-smile and I can't help it, I stand up on my toes and press my lips to his.

Derek raises one of his hands from my hip to cup my cheek as he kisses me back.

"Well," I hear Edwin's voice say from somewhere to my left. "That's a little weird."

I can't help but laugh, pulling back from kissing my step-brother, smiling up at him.

"I missed you too, Princess," Derek breathes, that word sounding a lot less snarky than usual.

I smile, realizing this is actually a pretty good opportunity to tell him our big news.

"Princess _es_ ," I correct, placing my hand on my stomach.

"Princesses?" Derek questions before it clicks. "It's a girl? We're having a girl?"

I smile, nodding.

"We're having a girl."

* * *

"So, that was some greeting earlier," Mom says, a very motherly tone in her voice.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, confused about what she means as she and I clean up from dinner

Following dinner, George headed off to help Marti with some homework, Derek disappeared upstairs to take a shower and if I had to guess, I'd bet money that Lizzie and Edwin are on the stairs listening to Mom and I talking.

"Derek barely got one foot through the front door before you ran up and kissed him. You must've really missed him," she replies, picking up a stack of dishes from the dining table.

"It's just strange. I've seen him basically every day since he moved to New York. It's just been weird for him to not be around."

Mom nods, handing a pitcher of water to me to put back into the refrigerator.

"And I assume that's why you've been sleeping in his room since he left?"

I bite my lip nervously, my hands unconsciously rising to play with my ponytail nervously.

I hadn't realized she'd noticed I wasn't sleeping in my own room.

"Case?" Mom wonders, stepping toward me and placing her hands on my arms. "I know you said there isn't— but are you _sure_ there's nothing more to this relationship with Derek? It's just— the way you kissed him, and I've never seen Derek look at _anyone_ the way he looked at you today."

I sigh. Leave it to my mother to see beneath the surface.

"I just can't help but feel like you're trying to ignore that there's something there for fear of rejection, and I just have to tell you, you won't get any of that from me, and I don't think you'll get it from Derek either."

I can't help but smile at that.

"It's bad timing," I frown. "I'm pregnant. And if I tell him I have feelings for him, he'll think it's only because I'm pregnant with his baby. But that's not it."

Mom nods, understanding.

"So tell _me_ then. What kind of feelings?"

I bite my lip again, thinking hard.

At the risk of hearing an 'I told you so', I think Lillian may have been right all along. Don't get me wrong, I haven't been secretly pining for Derek since high school. When we first started sleeping together, that really was all it was for me.

But when Derek said he wanted us to stop fighting— and it actually worked— I caught myself wondering if this relationship _could_ be more. I found myself smiling on my way over to see him, and spending nights away from him felt wrong.

The sex was always incredible, but I've also come to realize that Derek himself is kind of incredible. When he smiles, I know he's genuinely happy, and his laugh is contagious, and he can cook and he can dance and there's just so much about him I never noticed before, or didn't _want_ to notice.

"I think I'm in love with him," I whisper, looking straight at my mom.

Mom smiles, patting my arm gently, nodding for me to continue.

"I just know I miss him when he's not with me and he makes me smile and laugh and he makes me feel safe and like he'll always be there for me to lean on."

Mom nods again, placing her hand on my cheek.

"So tell him that. He's right upstairs."

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. (:


	12. Chapter 12

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Twelve

* * *

"D? Care for some company?" I ask the night after Mom convinced me to tell Derek how I feel about him.

Derek is lounging in his recliner flicking through television channels with a bowl of popcorn on his lap.

It's late, probably close to midnight and everyone else has gone to sleep already, which is why I decided to do this now. This way it's just me and Derek and we can have this conversation without interruptions.

"Sure, there's nothing good on tv anyway," Derek frowns, turning his head to look at me as I sit down on the couch next to the recliner.

I can't help but exhale heavily when I kick my feet up onto the coffee table. I may only be a few months along, but my goodness, do my feet _hurt_.

"Your feet hurt?" Derek asks, standing from his recliner, placing the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

Derek steps over my legs, plopping down next to me on the sofa, patting his knees.

"Are you actually going to rub my feet?" I ask incredulously, raising my eyebrow into a high arch.

Derek shrugs, reaching out to help me twist so my feet are resting on his lap.

"I told you, there's nothing good on tv."

I sigh heavily, my back slouching slightly when Derek starts to massage my feet. Man, that feels _amazing_.

My eyes flutter shut and my head lulls back against the arm of the sofa.

Derek continues his work on my feet and ankles for what feels like an hour before I sit upright, scooting closer to him on the couch.

"Thank you," I whisper, smiling at my step-brother.

Derek smiles back, one of his hands gliding up my leg and coming to rest on my thigh and the other draped around me on the back of the couch.

"Anytime, Princess," Derek smiles back, and again, that word doesn't sound as harsh coming from him as it once used to.

I bite my lip lightly, placing one of my hands on his bicep.

"Derek… I— I have to tell you something."

Derek tilts his head to the side, wondering.

"Is everything okay, Case?" Derek asks, placing one of his hands on my cheek.

"I dunno, I guess I'm about to find out," I reply, my heart pounding in my chest.

I can't help but be nervous. I know my mom said she thought Derek felt the same way about me, but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous.

I'm about to tell my step-brother, who's baby I'm pregnant with, that I'm in love with him, and if that's not a reason to be nervous, I don't know what is.

"Casey, what are you—"

"I love you," I say, cutting him off. "I'm in love with you. And no, it's not just because we're having a baby. I'm in love with you."

Derek's eyes widen and he almost seems to freeze up.

"Casey," Derek whispers, his fingers digging into my thigh. "Please don't say that unless you mean it."

Now it's my turn to look confused.

"What? Of course I mean it. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

Derek shrugs again.

"Wait, have you talked to Lillian?" Derek questions, arching his eyebrow.

"What? What does Lillian have to do with anything?"

Derek shakes his head.

"Nevermind. Don't worry about it."

I don't get to be confused though, because Derek surges forward and crushes his lips to mine, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

Despite wondering what's going on in Derek's head, my hands immediately wrap around his neck as I lean back, lying down on the couch, pulling him down with me.

Derek and I stay like that for _a while_ before he pulls back, looking down at me intently.

"I love you too, Casey," Derek whispers, leaning his forehead against mine.

I'm going to blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but I can't stop the tears that spring to my eyes at hearing that.

It feels like forever when Derek and I finally break eye contact.

Derek presses his lips back down to mine gently before pulling back and laughing lightly.

"Well, this couch sure holds a lot of memories for us, doesn't it?"

* * *

"Are you planning on blaming _everything_ you do for the next four months on being pregnant?" Derek laughs, handing me a big bowl of ice cream with whipped cream, hot fudge and six cherries on top as I'm sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island countertop.

It's about an hour after Derek and I discussed our feelings for each other, and I wanted ice cream, so we've moved to the kitchen.

"Of course I am," I laugh, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. "I'm eating for two and your daughter likes ice cream."

Derek smiles wide at me, coming to stand directly in front of me, placing his hands on my hips.

"My daughter," Derek mumbles, and I can't exactly read his expression, though he seems happy.

Derek leans his forehead against mine, wrapping his arms securely around my waist.

"We're gonna have a baby, Casey McDonald," Derek whispers, catching my lips in a kiss. "And I hope she turns out just like you."

I can't help but smile at that.

"I love you, Derek."

Derek smiles back at me, taking the bowl of ice cream out of my hands and setting it down on the counter opposite us.

"I love you," Derek says quietly, leaning down to press his lips to mine.

Almost immediately, I uncross my legs, wrapping them around my step-brother's waist, holding him in place and coiling my arms around his neck.

One of Derek's hands slips down from my hip to my thigh, his fingers digging into the underside of my thigh as he pulls me as close against him as possible.

I can't help but whimper just a little bit when Derek bites gently into my bottom lip before running his tongue along the same spot, deepening the kiss.

It's then that I'm reminded that Derek and I have gone nearly six weeks without having sex— not necessarily by choice, but still.

And whether I'm pregnant or not, Derek still has this effect on me. I can't help the way my body starts to tingle or the goosebumps that rise up on my arms.

" _Derek_ , _I—_ " I breathe, clawing at his chest, my fingernails leaving little red welts in their wake.

Derek groans lowly, his hand that's not on my thigh moving to grip tightly onto my butt.

"I know, Case, me too," Derek grunts, dipping his head down to bite into my neck to silence the moan he lets out.

My head tilts back, giving Derek more access to my neck.

While my step-brother continues to kiss his way down my neck, I reach down between us, dipping a few of my fingers into the waistband of his jeans, running my thumbs over the button and zipper.

A violent shiver runs through his body when my fingers graze over the now very prominent bulge in his pants.

"Oh, _fuck_."

Derek pulls back from me, his chest heaving and I can see his heartbeat pulsing on his neck.

"Let's go upstairs," Derek huffs, and I notice his cheeks are flushed red.

Derek reaches out, helping me climb down from the countertop, leaning down to press a quick, but heated kiss to my lips.

When we separate, Derek takes my hand in his, guiding me upstairs and into his bedroom, my ice cream long since forgotten.

* * *

"Why is there a bowl of melted ice cream on the counter?" Mom asks, picking my abandoned bowl up and dropping it into the sink the next morning around breakfast time.

My eyes immediately flicker across the kitchen, meeting with Derek's. The brunette man winks at me and turns the corner of his mouth up into that signature smirk.

I can feel my cheeks heat up from the reminder of how last night unfolded. If I'm being honest, after Derek and I went upstairs, we spent several hours _not sleeping_ in his bed.

"It wasn't me," Edwin states matter-of-factly when Mom sends a pointed look in his direction.

I can't help but laugh lightly.

"Sorry, Mom, that was me. I must've forgotten to put it in the sink before I went upstairs," I say quietly, scratching the back of my head nervously.

Mom smiles at me, chuckling lightly.

"It's the pregnancy brain," she says. "Just wait until you go to the grocery store and forget to put shoes on."

Derek had been taking a sip of water when Mom said that, and that water subsequently is spit all over the kitchen and dribbles down his neck and chest because he starts laughing so hard.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go with _that_ ," Derek snickers, placing his cup onto the counter, eyeing me up.

" _Der-ek_!" I shout, grabbing a muffin from the counter and hurling it across the kitchen at him.

Mom turns to look at me, arching her eyebrow up high, no doubt noticing the flush that must've taken root on my cheeks by now.

Mom's face softens, and she tilts her head in a way, mouthing _'Did you tell him?'_ , to which I nod in response, smiling from ear to ear.

Mom smiles brightly, darting across the kitchen to throw her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

"I'm so happy for you," Mom whispers in my ear, squeezing me before pulling back.

Mom crosses the kitchen, standing in front of Derek, placing a hand on his cheek.

Mom smiles at him and he smiles back, understanding her without words.

It's then that I remember that Edwin is still in the room. He's looking between me and Mom and Derek and his eyebrows are scrunched together.

"Am I missing something?"

* * *

Sorry it's been a minute since I've uploaded. Life happens, y'know. I'm still working on the next chapter, so it may be a little longer for that one too.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

"Derek?" Nora asks, tapping the back of her knuckle on the door-frame of her step-son's bedroom. "Any idea where Casey is?"

Derek's head immediately picks up from the book he'd been reading, which he quickly shoves under his legs to hide from Nora.

"Uh, s-she's taking a bath. She said her back hurt," Derek stammers.

Nora raises her eyebrow, stepping forward and taking a seat at the foot of Derek's bed.

"Can I talk to you?" Nora asks, smiling.

Derek nods, sitting up straighter.

"I just— I wanted to talk to you about you, and about Casey, and about the baby," Nora says, looking at her step-son intently.

Derek tilts his head to the side, questioning, "Okay? What's up?"

"I just need you to know that your father and I have discussed this and we're really proud of the way you're handling this," Nora starts. "Y'know, Casey is my daughter. I worry about her and I love her. And I'll tell you— I've spent so many nights wondering what kind of man Casey might end up with, hoping he'd be good to her and that he'd take care of her. Don't get me wrong, I know Casey can handle herself, but just call it a motherly concern."

Derek nods, understanding _what_ Nora is saying, but still wondering _why_.

"Now, I know you, your father and I haven't exactly seen eye-to-eye in the last few years, but, Derek, the way I see it, you are just as much my son as Casey is my daughter. I love you just the same. When I used to picture the man Casey would end up with, I always saw someone who challenged her, someone who loved her fiercely, but knew how and when to let her win."

Derek can't help but quirk a half-smile at that statement.

"I pictured someone who could calm Casey's storms and someone who _would_ when needed. Y'know, someone who would show up for her," Nora continues, reaching out to take Derek's hand in hers. "Derek, it took me until Casey told me she was pregnant and that _you_ were the father for me to realize that all these years— this perfect man for Casey that I made up in my head? He's you. Casey told me she's in love with you. And I have a sneaking suspicion that you feel the same way she does."

Derek laughs lightly.

"Nora, I've been in love with your daughter for a very long time," Derek states, confidence in his voice. "I just hope that's okay with you, because even if it isn't, I'm still gonna love her anyway."

Nora laughs in return, smiling at her step-son.

"Of course it's okay with me," Nora responds. "I just need to know you'll take care of her and that you'll love her. She's my girl, and I just need to know she's safe."

Derek nods. He understands that Nora isn't concerned specifically with _him_ , just that Casey is loved and cared for. And if Derek is being totally honest with himself— that's his main concern too.

"You know I will. She's my girl too," Derek assures Nora, thinking fondly about _his girl_.

Nora nods, infinitely proud of the young man sitting before her. Who would've thought that Derek Venturi might actually turn out alright?

"Well, then, now that all of that is settled," Nora chuckles. "Maybe now you'll show me that book you were reading."

Derek laughs nervously, admittedly a little embarrassed, but hands it over anyway.

" _One-Thousand-and-One Baby Names and Their Meanings_ ," Nora reads, smiling. "You and Casey thinking about names?"

"We haven't talked about it much, but I just thought… I just wanted to have some ideas," Derek says, his cheeks pinking up a little.

"Any contenders?"

Derek nods, flipping the book open to the inside of the front cover, where in pencil, he's written a list of names he likes.

Nora smiles wide, one name catching her eye specifically.

"I'm voting for this one," Nora declares, pointing to one of the names in the middle of the list.

Derek smiles back at her, his smile equally as big.

"That's my favorite too. It just seems… fitting, somehow."

* * *

"How was your bath?" Derek asks as I return to his bedroom, towel-drying my hair.

"It helped," I smile, crawling into bed next to him, wrapping my arms around and lying my head on a pillow.

Derek nods, smiling, looking down at me from where he's sitting.

"Your mom came and talked to me," he says, brushing a wet chunk of hair out of my face.

I raise an eyebrow, confused. What did my mother have to say to Derek?

"She approves," Derek starts and I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. "I told her I'm in love with you and that I'm gonna love you whether or not she approves— and she does."

"Well, that's awfully convenient," I laugh. "Because I love you, and I'm gonna love you either way too."

Derek laughs lightly in return, smiling that half-smile.

"And also, your mom is on my side with the name. She thinks it's perfect too," Derek declares triumphantly.

I roll my eyes, sighing.

"It's too on-the-nose. It's _too_ perfect. That's the problem."

Derek sighs, rolling his eyes right back at me.

"Well, whatever her name is, our daughter is going to have two parents who love her. And whatever her name will be, will be perfect too," Derek states. "After all, if she's anything like her mother— she'll insist on it."

I smile, laughing lightly.

"Hey, now," I scold playfully. "I like things a certain way and I like to do well in things— that isn't a bad thing."

Derek laughs, shaking his head.

"I didn't say it was," Derek smiles, taking one of my hands in his. "It's just a wonder how you put up with me being as dysfunctional as I am."

I smile in return, squeezing his hand.

"Oh, that's easy," I state. "I'm the glass of wine. You're the shot of whiskey."

* * *

"Since when do you smoke?" George asks, a worried, fatherly tone in his voice.

George takes a seat next to his eldest son on the back porch, his eyes focused on the lit cigarette between his fingers.

"Since New York. But I'm trying to quit," Derek replies, flicking the ash from the tip.

George nods.

"Good idea," George says, hoping his son succeeds in his goal.

Smoking is a terrible habit to have and George would be happy to see Derek kick it.

Derek brings the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag before dropping the butt to the ground under him, stomping it out.

"You didn't come out here to talk to me about my smoking habit. What's up, Dad?" Derek wonders, blowing a stream of smoke out into the night sky.

George nods again, smiling a half-smile.

"I know Nora came to talk to you earlier," George starts, turning to look directly at his son. "But I just had to tell you myself that I'm proud of you, son."

Derek nods, the sentiment from his father making him happier than he thought it would.

"I'm still trying to understand this situation with you and Casey, but I think it's obvious how much you two care about each other. I'm struggling a little with the idea that my son got his step-sister pregnant, but I do also know that you guys were never siblings, no matter how much Nora and I tried to push you to be."

Derek can't help but laugh. George is right— He and Casey were never siblings. They lived under the same roof, but they were never siblings.

"Nora told me that you told her you're in love with Casey," George recalls. "Derek, I just want you to be happy. I know Casey being pregnant makes this whole situation a little more complicated, but if you and Casey make each other happy, that's all I care about."

"Thanks, Dad," Derek says quietly.

"Casey is probably the last girl on Earth I would've picked for you, but maybe that's why it works so well. When she told us she was pregnant, she told us you two have been seeing each other since before she moved to New York. Did either of you ever see anyone else in that time?"

Derek shakes his head.

"I never did. I don't know for sure if she did or not, but I never did. I didn't need or want to. I knew from the first time I kissed her that it was all over from there," Derek says, his words true. "Before then, even. I think I knew it when I met her. I don't think fifteen year-old Derek knew what love was, but looking back on those years, I felt the same way about her then as I feel about her now— I'm just allowed to talk about it now."

* * *

Hey guys. Sorry it's been a while since I've updated. My cat had another surgery (he's okay, but we're still trying to figure out how to treat his condition in a way that'll work for him) and I had a VERY busy last few weeks. I'm going on vacation in a few days, so I will probably also not have another chapter up for a couple of weeks, but I'll do my best.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Another Vice**_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

"Derek! You better open this door or I'm gonna pee on the floor!" I shout through the bathroom door, banging on the wood in hopes that the aforementioned man would listen.

The door swings open, revealing a towel-clad Derek, which momentarily makes me forget what I had been yelling about.

Derek is holding the towel closed at his waist and his chest is covered with a light sheen of water and his hair is sticking to his forehead in chunks.

"That would be quite a show," Derek smirks, licking his lips.

I roll my eyes.

"Well, you sure do have a nice way of speaking to the woman carrying your baby," I grumble, narrowing my eyes into slits and glaring up at my step-brother.

Derek laughs, and I watch as a drip of water races down his neck and down the contours of his chest.

"Oh, you're right," Derek says, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Go right ahead, Princess. I'll put my shower on hold _for you_."

Derek bows dramatically, waving me into the bathroom.

I roll my eyes again, but step into the bathroom, remembering why I was yelling for Derek to open the door to begin with.

"When you have a tiny human dancing on your bladder, then you can talk to me about bathroom rights."

Derek spins back around, shutting the door behind him before coming to stand directly in front of me.

Derek leans down, his hands reaching out to place on my hips as his nose grazes across my cheek.

"I love you, my Princess," Derek whispers, leaning in to press his lips to the side of my neck, right under my jaw.

I exhale heavily and I can't help but lean into him (as much as my eight-months-pregnant body can), tilting my head to give him more access.

"I love you," I say back, raising my hands to dig my nails into his lower back.

Derek lifts his head from my neck, straightening up, his lips turning up into his classic sexy half-smile.

Derek steps back from me, not breaking eye contact as he unties the knot at the front of his towel, dropping the fabric to the floor.

Normally, his cockiness would annoy me to no end— and a lot of the time it still does. But Derek knows he's good-looking, and he will forever use that to his advantage.

"I'm gonna finish my shower now," Derek states, his voice dropping now. "You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

* * *

"What were you and Derek arguing about earlier? I could hear you yelling from down here," Lizzie asks, laughing as she fixes herself a sandwich for lunch.

"He hogs the bathroom. You can't do that to a woman with a baby sitting on her bladder," I laugh in return, taking a sip of water.

"Fair enough," Lizzie chuckles again, biting into her sandwich. "I can't believe you guys still fight like you used to, though."

I smile, nodding.

"We do and we don't," I reply easily. "We still fight— I doubt if that'll ever stop— but we also know now that we love each other more than any fight we could possibly have. Especially considering we've probably fought over everything we possibly could anyway."

"I love that," Lizzie smiles. "I'm just glad you're happy, Case. You and Derek are my brother and sister and I just want you guys both to be happy."

"Well, I can't speak for Derek, but I'm so happy. I'm in love and in a few weeks I'll have a beautiful baby girl and I just can't imagine life getting much better."

* * *

"Casey? Is that you?" I hear a voice from behind me call.

I was starting to get a little stir-crazy, so I managed to convince Derek to drive me to the mall so I could walk around— even for just an hour or two.

Derek wandered off when I walked into the shoe department of Nordstrom, and I can't say I blame him. But damnit, I just want a nice new pair of heels I can wear once the baby is born, so here we are.

"Casey?" that voice calls again before I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I spin around quickly, coming face-to-face with an old friend— Emily.

And before I get a chance to even open my mouth, her jaw drops.

"You're pregnant?!" she shouts, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

Emily's eyes widen and she takes a step back from me.

"I'm so sorry," she says, probably feeling guilty for shouting something so personal in public, but in her defense, I hadn't told her.

How was I supposed to tell someone outside of my family that I'm pregnant and then have to explain the _how_ and the _why_ and the _who_. Especially the _who_.

I smile at her weakly, immediately feeling badly for not telling her.

"Yes, I am," I state, nervously, as if my large, round stomach wasn't enough proof.

"Congratulations!" Emily says excitedly. "Who's the father? Is he here? Can I meet him?"

I sigh.

I bite into my lip, my heart quickly beginning to pound against my chest.

"Oh, um," I stutter. "He's around here somewhere."

And as if on cue— enter Derek.

"Are you done shopping yet, Princess? I have some calls to make when we get home so I can't sit and rub your feel all night if they hurt from shopping all day," Derek says, his eyes focused on his cell phone in his hand.

"Derek?" Emily asks, her eyebrows raised into her hairline as her eyes dart between Derek and I.

Derek picks his head up, his eyes going wide when he realizes what he just said, and in front of who.

Emily raises an eyebrow at me, her mouth hanging half-open.

"Emily—" I start, starting to feel dizzy.

 _Man, I wish I hadn't come to the mall._

"Are you kidding me?" Emily hisses, shaking her head.

I bite down hard into my lip, worried about what Emily will do now that she knows what's going on.

It's when Emily starts to laugh that I scrunch my eyebrows together, confused.

"I can't believe Sam was right. There goes twenty dollars," Emily frowns.

"Excuse me?" I ask, thoroughly confused.

Emily chuckles lightly, looking between Derek and I.

"Sam and I have had a running bet for years about whether you two would ever actually end up together," Emily explains, her smile making her eyes scrunch up at the corners. "I always thought you were too stubborn to admit your feelings, but Sam thought Derek would eventually."

I can't help it— my mouth drops open, and no other word than _shocked_ can describe how I'm feeling.

"I am not that stubborn! I'll have you know that it was me who spoke up first," I state, crossing my arms over my chest.

Emily laughs lightly, almost as if she doesn't believe me, looking to Derek for confirmation.

"That may be true, but the admitting the feelings thing came _after_ you were already pregnant with my baby, so I'm not sure it really counts," Derek laughs, slinging his arm over my shoulders.

Emily's eyes widen as she places her hands on her hips, looking at me pointedly.

"Well, despite my losing twenty dollars over this, I'm so happy for you guys. If you need _anything_ for the baby, please let Sam and I know. We have so much stuff from both Jasmine and Jesse that we'd be happy to give you guys. Y'know, clothes and toys and just a little bit of everything. You're welcome to anything you need."

I smile at Emily, wondering how Derek and I have gotten so lucky to have family and friends who are willing to accept our relationship, despite how unconventional it may be.

* * *

"Yes, sir," Derek says into his cell phone as he and I are lounging in his room after our adventure at the mall.

I can't hear what the person on the other end of the phone is saying, but I know Derek is talking to the coach of the Maple Leafs, so I would imagine they're talking about hockey.

"Yes, sir, I moved back to Canada because my girlfriend and I are both from here and she's pregnant so we wanted to be close to family, that's correct."

 _Girlfriend_. He's never called me his _girlfriend_ before. I suppose I _am_ , but it's just nice to hear him say it.

"Yes, sir, thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you."

Derek hangs up the phone, tossing it onto his bedside table before lying down next to me and pulling me into his arms, with my head on his chest.

"You called me your girlfriend," I whisper, smiling, as I wrap my arms around him.

"Yes, I did," Derek replies, squeezing me a little tighter. "I know we never really put a label on us, but I've been calling you my girlfriend in my head for a while now, so I figured I'd try it out loud too."

"Well, I like the sound of it."

* * *

So it's been over a month since I've updated. Sorry 'bout it. Hopefully more coming soon.


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